Diligo Victum Nex
by OnceUponAWonderland
Summary: Ginny Weasley is sick of being stuck at Hogwarts while her older siblings and friends are off being important. She's bored and alone. Then a time turner, a yearbook from 50 years ago, and boy named Riddle change everything. Rated M for later in the story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** - do people actually read these notes? Half the time, I don't. Anyways, I'm a horrible person and haven't been posting anything, even when I've said I would. So here is something unexpected.... not done yet, probably not as well written as it could be (because I wrote this first chapter about a year ago and haven't worked on it since). I'll fix it, I promise. I just wanted to actually get something published for once. Let me know what you think please!?

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT MINE!!!! Wish it was, but it isn't.

Enjoy.

**Chapter One - Time Travel**

I closed the gigantic library book and sighed. This is pathetic. I've been holed up in the library for hours trying to find something that could possibly help Harry. I don't even know why I'm bothering to do this - it's not like I know what I'm looking for. Harry made it perfectly clear this summer that he didn't want me having anything to do with this war. But I can't just sit here and do nothing; I have to do everything I can!

At the start of the year, Neville basically took charge of the DA and we (the DA) had all been causing as much ruckus as possible. That is, until Luna was captured at the start of Christmas break. After that there was a unanimous decision to tone down the troublemaking. Unfortunately, now I feel utterly useless, and I hate it.

"Ms. Weasley, I believe the library is closing." Professor McGonagall's stern voice broke the library's comfortable silence, making me jump a mile into the air. I turned to look up at the woman who had temporarily replaced Dumbledore as Headmistress of Hogwarts. In a usual circumstance, this "promotion" would have made the Transfiguration teacher even more frightening but I guess I was not a usual circumstance. No, lately I had been feeling quite comfortable around McGonagall - almost as if she was a close friend I had known my whole life.

"Sorry Professor." I mumbled, looking back down at the book.

"Ms. Weasley," she said softly, sitting down in the chair across from me, "I realize that this is a very hard time for you, but you must bear in mind that your friends are doing something very important for the war." She paused. "Whatever they are doing, I'm sure it is of vital importance – Ms. Granger wouldn't miss school for anything less."

"I know, I know. And I'm proud of them." I sighed deeply. "But I'm sick of not doing anything! They're off saving the world and I'm stuck here. I can help! I want to help, why can't I!?"

"You are helping. By simply being on the side of good is doing a great deal for the Order." McGonagall responded, sounding more and more like the late Professor Dumbledore every day.

"No I'm not helping! Yes, I feel abandoned by my friends but I also feel completely useless! It's as if I'm just another person needing protecting, burdening those who already have so much on their hands. I want to do something! I want to help! I want to fight!" the professor was silent through my entire rant, and when I finished, breathing heavily, she stood, smiling faintly.

"If you're so sick of being "useless" than perhaps it is time." I looked up at her, confused. "Allow me to tell you a story." McGonagall walked over to a bookshelf and stood looking at it for a moment. Finally, she pulled out a formal looking, slightly tattered book. She came back over to the table and began leafing through the book's pages.

"When I was in my seventh year at Hogwarts, a young girl came here. She had transferred from some other school, I forget where, nobody ever spoke about it. I was Head Girl at the time and was assigned to be a 'mentor' of sorts to the girl - show her around, help her adjust, make her feel at home, that type of thing. But she didn't need it. The girl seemed to already know the castle by heart as soon as she arrived and never had any problems adjusting to the academics. Save for the rare occasion when she would say something bizarre that nobody else would quite understand… the girl fit in perfectly." I listened carefully, not understanding where McGonagall was headed with this.

"She was lovely, instantly making friends and becoming quite popular. In fact, the two of us did end up growing rather close and I take pride in knowing that I was a good friend to her when many others were not." My teacher paused and glanced at me, seemingly contemplating what she should say next. When she didn't speak right away, I interrupted.

"Excuse me if I'm just missing something but why exactly are you telling me this?" I asked quietly, for it was now after curfew.

"Would you like to know the girl's name?" McGonagall asked, as if I hadn't spoken at all. I gestured for her to go ahead and tell me, a bit annoyed.

"The girl's name was Ginerva Peverell."

"Ginerva Peverell?" I repeated, confused.

"Ginerva Peverell." McGonagall confirmed. She turned the book to face me and pointed to something on the page. A picture. As I stared at it, trying to place the familiar face, McGonagall spoke, "You are looking at the yearbook from my 7th year. The girl there is Ginerva. She arrived at the start of my seventh year, her sixth, but then disappeared almost immediately after graduating. I never did know what happened to her - until now." I tore my gaze away from a picture of a girl who could have been my twin sister, and stared back at my professor.

"And I suppose there is a reason you are telling me this?" I ask.

"Yes." McGonagall answered. I raised one eyebrow. "I have reason to believe

that the Ginerva Peverell who arrived at Hogwarts in my seventh year, and then left so abruptly, is you."

"What?!" I finally managed to gasp. "How!?"

"Simple. Time travel." I simply could not comprehend that I had gone back in time, in my 6th year, which would be now and completed my Hogwarts education in the 1940s. It just didn't add up and yet somehow….

"I'll do it." Did I really just say that? McGonagall smiled and stood from her place at the small study table.

"I knew you would. If you do not mind Ms. Weasley, I feel it would be best if you left now." She said, failing to conceal her anxiety while extracting a time turner and a letter from her pocket. I took the time turner and placed it delicately around my neck and tucked the letter into the hem of my denims.

"Armando Dippet is the headmaster. When you arrive in 1943 go see him in his office, I believe the password is _tradition_. Then go see Professor Dumbledore and give him this letter. Keep your wand and the letter close to your body at all times during the time travel. Understand?" I nodded, putting on a brave face and not allowing myself to second guess this decision.

"This is your last chance to change your mind Ms. Weasley. If not, I shall see you in 1943." McGonagall paused, and I smiled nervously at her, refusing to think about the friends I was leaving behind, or the risk I was taking. "Okay then, good luck." And with that, Minerva McGonagall pulled out her wand and pointed it at the time turner.

"September 1st, 1943." She said clearly. And then she was gone.

* * *

Time seemed to be moving backward all around me. At first I could tell where I was, who was there and what they were doing, before it all became meshed together. I saw Neville and Luna plotting their latest scheme, a group of third-year Ravenclaws studying in a corner, two Slytherins making out and Harry and I laughing. So many memories flashed through my mind at the sight of these events. Simpler times - oh how I longed for them.

Next, Harry, Ron and Hermione were whispering, looking to be in their third year. Then Hermione in her second year, ripping a page out of a book while holding a mirror to her eyes. After that came Harry, Ron and Hermione again, in their first year with books spread out all over a table and Malfoy, farther away from them, doing homework.

_This is insane! _I thought excitedly.

I could just barely see Fred, George and Lee goofing off in a far corner. Percy, 13, studying and . . . was that a twelve year old Bill?! Wow! Time flew faster and faster, spinning backward around me. And I watched, without words to describe the various scenes I was witnessing.

My chest tightened when I saw a sixteen year old Sirius Black, without a care in the world, snogging some blonde bimbo. And I actually laughed out loud when Lily Evans slapped James Potter, a punishment for asking her out, I asusmed. Alice Soon-to-be-Longbottom was chatting with Lily and Remus, Snape was by himself watching them jealously. Then Lily was with Snape, smiling at him from behind a book. And Narcissa Black was joking with. . .Sirius? No, that must be his younger brother, Regulus. Bellatrix Black was flirting with her future husband, Rodolphus Lestrange; Lucius Malfoy was picking on a Hufflepuff. Then my father was kissing my mother.

Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away.

After that, I stopped recognizing people, though every now and then I would see somebody that resembled a friend or classmate of mine and I would feel a pang of remorse.

Time was moving abnormally fast and I could see my surroundings subtly changing. The lights seemed to dim and I noticed the clothing and hairstyles of the people that rushed by me change drastically. I grinned. This was by far the coolest experience thing ever!

Time began to slow and I noticed - I think that was McGonagall - sitting at a table reading, and my grandfather Septimus hurrying out past me.

A few moments later, time came to an abrupt stop. Thankfully, nobody was in the library when I suddenly became visible and, having no watch, I could not guess what time it was.

I hurried out of the library and made my way to the headmaster's office, hoping that nobody would see me.

"Tradition." I told the gargoyles and waited as they moved aside to reveal the grand staircase that would take me to the Headmaster's office.

I stepped up to the door, rolling my eyes at its golden plaque that read '_Armando Dippet Headmaster'._ I knocked three times and took a shaky breath, telling myself to be brave.

"Enter." A voice called. I obeyed.

"Who are you?" he asked. In two seconds that seemed like two hours I took in his shocked expression, his confused stare, his alarmed stance. Finally, I took another deep, breath and spoke calmly.

"My name is Ginerva Weasley. I'm from the future."

-------------------

**A/N** YAY!! Finally. So what do you think?? I should keep going right? I will, I promise.

-onceuponawonderland


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter two. Let me know what you think please.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. 'Nuf said.

ENJOY!

* * *

Professor Dippet stared open mouthed at me, as if trying to decide if I was in fact a reality.

"I was told to come see you." I say, trying to keep my voice steady and calm. I had a feeling this man was easily shaken.

"You were?"

"You are Headmaster, aren't you?" taken aback, the man clears his throat.

"Well, yes." He stands up and walks over to a bookshelf. I look around the room for a moment until he turns around to face me. "Are you planning to stay?" Now it is my turn to be taken aback. I know when I leave, don't I? But do I tell the headmaster that?

"Yes." I answer slowly. "But not for forever."

"So you have a way to get back to your own time then?" I clear my throat.

"Erm… no." I don't know _how_ I leave, just that I do. Dippet sighs and clears his throat again. There seems to be a lot of throat clearing in this room….

"Inform Professor Dumbledore that he is needed in the Headmaster's office please?" Dippet asks a portrait.

At his point I was still standing awkwardly near the door. If Dumbledore had been Headmaster he would have told me to sit, introduced me to Fawkes (who is a personal pet of Dumbledore's I assume because he is nowhere to be seen), and offered me some muggle candy, all before asking why I was there. I smiled at my memory of the future Headmaster.

A startled choking noise drew my attention to the present-time Headmaster who, it seemed, had forgotten my presence and jumped when he turned around and saw me standing by the door. I raised an eyebrow at him and he cleared his throat… again.

"Well? Why are you still standing there?" he demands. "Sit down, sit down!" He ushered me over to the chair in front of his desk and then walked around his desk and sat down across from me.

We sat in silence for a moment until Professor Dumbledore entered. Dippet stood and addressed Dumbledore from behind the desk. "Albus, we have a bit of a situation at hand. This girl," he points to me, "showed up a few moments ago. She claims to be from the future and is planning to stay, though not forever. She has plans to leave eventually, but no means to do so." I roll my eyes. Way to repeat everything I just said dude….

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, that is indeed a situation, isn't it?" He motions for me to stand and walk closer to him. I do. When I reach him, he sticks out his hand for me to shake. "Hello, my name is Albus Dumbledore. I teach transfiguration here at this wonderful establishment."

I chuckle. "Yes, I know." Dumbledore smiles again.

"Of course you do." He walks us both back to Dippet's desk and we all take a seat. "Tell me about yourself would you?"

I take a deep breath. "My name is Ginerva Weasley. In my time, I am a 6th year Gryffindor. I -"

"So you are in fact a Hogwarts student?" Professor Dippet interrupts.

"Yes."

"Well, Armando, I suppose the only thing to do is to set her up as a transfer student and start working on a way to get her home safe." Dumbledore announces. "Was there a specific time you were planning to leave?" My mind goes crazy. A decision has to be made. Tell him? Don't tell him? What should I do?

"I graduate. That's all I know." The two professors nod silently and exchange a look.

"Well until then, you will have to go by a different surname. There are a few Weasleys roaming these halls and it would cause much confusion to add in another, unknown Weasley." Dumbledore tells me.

"I understand completely." I say. "And I would like to go by Peverell. Ginverva Peverell." I watch as Dumbledore's eyes go wide and he stares at me while Dippet writes down my new name.

"We'll have to sort you as well." Dumbledore says as his eyes wearily go back to normal. I stare at him, confused.

"I've been sorted already. I told you – I'm a Gryffindor." I protest, jumping to my feet.

"People change, my dear. But no fear, you will fit in wherever you end up. And I'm sure that if you are meant to be in Gryffindor here, the hat will place you there once more." While Dumbledore says this, I sit back down and wait while Dippet takes the sorting hat down off its perch and brings it toward me.

I gulp.

The hat is placed on my head.

I jump when it suddenly springs to life.

_Hello…_ _You seem very familiar my dear one. Have I sorted you before? __No… but I will sort you in the future. _The hat says, answering its own question. _You will be a Gryffindor._ I smile. _AH! But people change. Quite a bit, it seems, in your case. Yes. I know where I will sort you this time. Quite a change. Quite a change… but not a bad change. No. This house will be very good for you. I can see this now. I know where you belong… SLYTHERIN!_

No… no that can't be…

McGonagall never said…

Oh bloody hell.

* * *

A/N -- I love you all and I love Ginny and I love Tom (who gets introduced in the next chapter... no fear). Don't worry. The first few chapters are a bit bland... her getting settled and all that jazz. But they're necessary to get the ball rolling and they're really not _that _bad are they?

Anyways thank you so much for reading and commenting. Next chapter to come soon.

~onceuponawonderland


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** Sorry for the long wait!!! Been really busy (no excuse, I know) and I'm about to be really busy again. The wait will probably be the same for chapter 4 (seeing as it's not written quite yet) but I'm working on typing up Mans Best Friend and the first few chapters of that should be up soon.

**Disclaimer **-- Obviously, it's still not mine.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Peverell?" A voice echoed around me but I ignored it, assuming it wasn't talking to me.

"Peverell!" The voice repeated. Again, I ignored it and continued pacing in front of the Great Hall. "Oi! Ginerva Peverell!?" Oh right; that's me!

"Sorry, I didn't hear you." I said, stopping and spinning around. A seventeen-year-old Minerva McGonagall, standing proudly behind me, glared.

"I yelled your name three times!"

I shrugged. "I suppose I was just off in la-la-land or something." McGonagall gave me an odd look but I put it aside, deciding not to worry about it.

"Well, I'm supposed to help you to adjust – I'm head Girl, see." She told me, proudly pointing to her badge. "But since you're a Slytherin I can't sit with you at dinner – which is going on now – but you can come by the Head's dorm after dinner and I'll catch you up. If you come on rounds with me tonight I'll give you a tour of the castle, otherwise you'll just have to get your fellow Slytherins to show you around." I raised my eyebrows, noticing her change of tone whenever she mentioned my new house.

"Okay." I agreed, knowing I didn't need a tour. Near to six years at this school with Harry's invisibility cloak and the twins at my digression had led to wonderful things…Of course, McGonagall couldn't know that now could she?

"5th floor - Password's _Mandrake_. My advice to you would be to find a prefect in your house and attach yourself to them for tonight. They can take you to your dorms and show you where to find the head's room." McGonagall explained. Well, that actually sounds like a good idea (except for the finding places… a prefect would be able to help with the password issue though).

"Okay." I repeated. We stood there in silence while I fiddled with my hands. _Now what?_ I thought to myself. _This is awkward._

"Well? Are you going in or not?!" McGonagall demanded. Oh! Right….

Gulping, I grasped the handle and pushed the door to the Great Hall open. As expected, all eyes turned to see who was entering late. The last of the first years were taking their seats and I felt rather than saw McGonagall slip past me and head toward the middle of the Gryffindor table. I almost followed her but hesitated, remembering I was now a Slytherin. At the front of the room stood Headmaster Dippet, his mouth open and arms out, about to make a speech. Seeing me, he lowered his arms and made an introduction instead.

"I'd like to introduce you all to Ginerva Peverell, a 6th year transfer student who will be joining Slytherin House. I remind you all to make her feel at home." With a pang I realized, despite Hogwart's "second-home" status in my book would still feel big and empty if I didn't make friends. And soon.

Bottling up my Gryffindor courage, I began the long walk toward the middle of the Slytherin table. Let people look, I figured. All they'll see is a confident, beautiful young woman. Or at least, that's what Hermione has always told me…

I sat down next to a tall dark, very handsome boy who looked to be seventeen or eighteen. Dippet keep speaking, but I didn't listen. Instead, I examined the familiar looking boy sitting next to me. Tall, and Dark-skinned. Strong jaw line; very muscular. Curly dark hair and deep brown eyes. _Where have I seen this boy before?!_

"And now I'm sure you're all hungry, so dig in!" Dippet finished. With those words mounds of food appeared on the table and we all "dug in". For a few moments the only noise in the entire Great Hall was that of utensils working to get food onto plates. Mid-pasta-serving, the familiar-seeming boy sitting next to me turned to face me.

"Hello. I'm Tristan - Tristan Zabini. I enjoy long walks on the beach, watching the sunset, and getting into girls' pants." He said. I laughed.

"Ginerva Peverell. Call me Ginny. I enjoy Quidditch, dueling and getting into guys' pants." I reply. Tristan smiles an ear-to-ear smile.

"Well Ginny, I believe you and I will get along perfectly."

* * *

**A/N** Chapter 4 will continue exactly where this leaves off. Really sorry that this chapter is lacking in the Tom-ness. It was going to be a lot longer but this was all I had so far and I really wanted to get something up. Hope you liked it!! I'll try to get chapter 4 up ASAP!

~onceuponawonderland


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** - extremely sorry for the tiny chapter last time. This one is the longest one yet. It could, in retrospect, be longer, but again, I wanted to upload what I had because I was pretty happy with it.

I'm really annoyed with myself though because I still have yet to introduce Tom... but I have a pretty firm idea of how I want them to meet and unfortunately, there's just so much that is happening before that can happen. It will happen either in chapter 5 or chapter 6 (depends how long chapter 5 is).

But anyways.... I'm pretty sure you know this isn't mine by now so I'll limit disclaimers to every other chapter or so.

ENJOY!

* * *

Tristan smiles at me and goes back to his food. Blaise. That's who Tristan reminded me of – his future grandson. The Blaise from my time is almost as much of a womanizer as Draco Malfoy, and it seemed to me that Tristan was much the same.

"Hey Peverell!" I hear my "name" and look around. A little ways down the table a younger-looking Tristan was calling for my attention.

"My little brother. He's a sixth year like you." Tristan whispers in my ear.

"Peverell – ditch my loser brother after dinner and hang out with me. There's going to be a big party in the common room tonight!"

"Like shit you are!" Tristan exclaims.

"We are!" his brother cries.

"Hell no! I'm head boy and I say hell no; you'll scare the fucking first years." _Nice mouth._ Tristan leans across the to his brother, glaring at him as a threat.

"Tristan, relax please." The boy sitting across from Tristan, who I would bet money was a Malfoy, said while rolling his eyes. "I'll be there and I'll make sure it doesn't get out of hand. Besides it's not like anyone would have had time to get any alcohol yet. It'll be fine."

Tristan huffed and sat back down. "Fine."The Malfoy boy continues talking.

"Terry – don't piss your brother off too much okay?" Terry, Tristan's younger brother, rolls his eyes and nudged the person to his side, who then passed him the bowl of salad. He won the battle for the party. I guess he gave up on me.

---

I really don't remember finishing dinner or eating desert but sometime during the mindless chatter it happened. Suddenly, Professor Dippet was standing up again and the food disappeared.

"And now, all of you will return to your houses and we shall see you tomorrow morning for breakfast when schedules will be handed out." He announced.

All at once, people were moving about chaotically. Prefects were shouting for first years, friends were grouping up and shuffling out and I realized I was about to get left completely alone. As soon as this realization hit me, I jumped up and started looking around for a fellow Slytherin. I remembered McGonagall's advice and looked around for a prefect.

The Malfoy kid who sat diagonal from me at dinner was gathering first years down at the end of the table. I seized the opportunity and hoped my assumptions about him being a Malfoy were correct. "Hey Malfoy!" I shouted. A handful of people turned to stare at me, but not Malfoy.

"Malfoy with the first years!" Still, nothing. He was counting heads and looked as if he were getting ready to head out.

"Try blond pompous git –he'll usually respond." I glanced back and saw some relative of Harry's wink as he walked past me. Curious I tried it out.

"Oi! Blond pompous git named Malfoy!" Finally! He glanced up and smirked.

"Yes?" He asks sweetly. I let out a growl of frustration and walk over.

"Must you be so obnoxious?"

"Yes." He says, still smirking. "Abraxas Malfoy - How can I help you?"

"Abraxas. Fine. Mind showing me where the hell I'm going?" Hey – he's smiling. Weird; never seen a Malfoy smile before. . .

"Try to keep up. C'mon first years." He calls before taking off at a brisk pace. The first years stood there for a moment as if trying to decide what exactly was going on.

"Let's go midgets!! You heard him; at least try to keep up." I call, motioning for them to follow Abraxas as I shuffle them out the door. Once we had crossed the entrance hallway I hurried my pace and caught up to Abraxas at the front of the crowd.

A few more paces and he stopped. We all stood in front of a door. "And so begins our journey into the creeeeeppy dungeons….. ooohhh!" Abraxas joked, making a scary face at the first years. Well – the sorting hat did do a good job I guess seeing as none of them appeared to be phased. Purebloods - who had all heard the stories and whose parents had drawn the maps – every single one of them.

Abraxas rolled his eyes and opened the door, leading us down into the part of the dungeons that housed the Slytherin house. As we walked, Abraxas explained parts of the castle to me. He told me of the moving staircases, (I had already heard of them I said – meant to go down and suddenly I was going up!) the hidden passageways that could get you from one place in the castle to the next simply by going behind a tapestry (these I also knew of but still asked "really?").

I kept a steady pace with him as the corridor started branching out into hallways that, further down met up with other hallways or groups of classrooms. I asked questions about the classes I would be taking and the teachers that would be teaching them. But as he described some of the classes to me, I began to worry. I had already learned all of this, mostly in my 5th year and what parts of my 6th year I had so far taken. When he got to Defense Against the Dark Arts I blanched. I had learned more in the DA than I would in this class!

"What's wrong?" Abraxas asked, stopping to look at me. No wonder Voldemort saw so much success – nobody had been taught anything that would help fight him off! "Ginny?"

"Nothing. I just thought of a possible problem but it'll be fine." I reply, shaking my head. I made a mental note to talk to Dumbledore as soon as possible. Abraxas gave me a weird look and kept walking.

"What was the problem?" He asked.

"Uh, textbooks." I say. "I just realized I haven't got any textbooks yet." Again Abraxas gives me a weird look but this time he shrugs and stops walking. The first years, who were a good 20 paces behind, hurry to gather around.

Abraxas waits for them to all get close before speaking, "This is the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. The password changes every now and then – a change will be noted in the form of a note on the other side of the door. Keep an eye out. If you get locked out it's your own fault. The notes only stay for a day." A few boys smirk at him, as if daring him to think they would actually get locked out. Abraxas raises an eyebrow at them and turns around.

"Hello Sir." Abraxas says to the painting guarding the entrance. The old man looks up at Abraxas.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy, back for the last year?" He asks kindly. I am greatly reminded of the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black that hangs in the Headmasters office (or better, I'm reminded of the man himself).

"Yes Sir. I've got a new group of Slytherins for you."

"Do you really? Well move aside and let me see them!" Abraxas moves aside and the man – Sir – smiles.

"Welcome to Hogwarts everyone! Well come in, come in! Mr. Malfoy – I believe you know the password?" He cries boisterously. I cringe.

"_potentia_" how appropriate…. 'power'.

The portrait door swings open and the first years follow us in. We crowd into the middle of the large room and the first years mumble excitedly. "Boys dormitories are to your right; girls to your left. You will find your things already brought up. You will now go to your rooms and stay there for the remainder of the night. There is to be a party for upperclassmen only down here to which you are not invited."

"We're not stupid – we know what upperclassmen means." A boy in the front of the group – one of the previous smirk-ers – drawled.

"Well it doesn't seem to always register in your small little minds that "upperclassmen only" and "no first years" are the same thing." Abraxas replies smoothly. The boy huffed. "If you're caught down here, by anyone not just a prefect, you will be punished. Goodnight."

The first years made their way to their dormitories and I turned to follow them.

"No, no gorgeous; you're definitely staying here with me." He says, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward him. A familiar sensation makes my stomach muscles tighten.

"Can't I go see my things?" I ask sweetly.

"Only if you're changing – I overheard your little introduction with my friend Tristan… I plan to get to know you tonight." He says with a smirk. Damn he's sexy…..

"Abraxas, I just got here." I answer, pulling away from him. "I'm not having sex with you – or anyone – for a while."

"And how long exactly is a while?" He asks, a slight hint of anger in his tone.

"I don't know exactly. Two weeks? A month? I need to get used to being here at all before I get involved with anyone." I explain. He nods and backs away, sitting on one of the many couches.

"I completely understand. I didn't realize you were only partially serious when talking to Tristan. In my mind, you were either completely serious or completely fake. I'm truly sorry." And he seemed truly sorry. I feel a pang of remorse for saying what I had. Abraxas seems like someone I could have a great relationship with. But I was right – I needed time to get used to being here. I was completely alone, in a different time period. I had to decide what I was going to do with myself.

"When will the party start?"

"Whenever I show up, of course." I raise an eyebrow and he rolls his eyes. "Half an hour. The party officially starts in half an hour."

I tell him I'll see him then and then go to my room. Or, so I thought. Inside the entrance Abraxas had pointed out to the first year girls, was not a staircase, but a long hallway. Every few feet, a torch lights the way. Assuming I have to go down this hallway to reach the dormitories, I do. After a 30-some-odd paces I reach a door on my left. A plaque on the door reads, "Angelique Le'Domes – 6th year Prefect."

No way! "The prefects get their own rooms?!" I exclaim.

"Only in Slytherin!" I spin around and look upon a girl my age. "Don't tell the Gryffindors – they'll start whining – not that they don't whine already." I flash a half-hearted smile. We… they… didn't whine _that_ much did we…them?

"Is this your room?" I ask, moving out of the way in case she wanted to get inside.

She laughs. "No. I'm not a prefect. Actually, our prefect transferred out at the end of last year so this particular room is unclaimed." Interesting.

"Are the boys' dormitories like this too?" I wonder.

"One and the same. Well, the hallway is, I don't know about the actual dormitories." An awkward silence ensues. The girl soon breaks the silence with a gasp. "I'm so sorry! I don't have a clue where my manners have run off to! My name is Cassandra Wilkes – call me Cassie. I'm a 6th year Slytherin, aspire to be a healer, only child of James and Elizabeth Wilkes. Dad's a healer, mum doesn't work." She sticks out her hand. "Oh, and pureblood, but I guess that goes without saying because I'm in Slytherin aren't I?" I reach out and shake her still outstretched hand.

"Ginerva Peverell – call me Ginny." I let go of her hand. She cocks a brow and starts walking down the hallway. I follow her, figuring she'll lead me to the dorms.

"So Ginny Peverell, have you no story?"

"I have a story." I say slowly. As we walk she turns around to look at me. I match her expression, studying her as she studies me. She smiles as we reach the base of a stairwell.

"How very Slytherin of you." She says seriously. "You pass."

When she turns around I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding. It seems I had just passed my first test.

"Are you coming? I mean, you could stand there all night but there is a party about to happen." Grinning, I race up the stairs to where she is standing and together we walk up to the 6th year dormitory.

* * *

**A/N - **What's to come, you ask? I shall tell:

The party!!!! And Tom!!!! During the party I promise, she shall meet Tom. Not gonna tell when or how but it will happen!

**Reviews are awesome.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N --** Longest chapter yet! I wanted to make it longer but I really felt like I was at a good stopping point. Anyways, let me know what you think!

Callidora-Malfoy -- up by tonight, as I promised! =P

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. If it were, well... It's probably a good thing it's not.

Enjoy!

* * *

"How the hell are the little kids sleeping through all this?" I shout at Cassie.

"What?" She shouts back at me.

"How are the little kids sleeping through this?" I repeat. She hears me this time over the baring music and shrugs.

"Why hello there gorgeous!" Abraxas appears next to me and twirls me around. "Now this is more like it! Shall we dance?" I look at Cassie, who grins and wiggles her eyebrows goofily. I smile back and lead Abraxas out onto the dance floor, which is simply the space created in the middle of the common room by moving furniture around. There's also a "bar" in the corner near the boy's dorms serving non-alcoholic beverages (due to the short notice, Abraxas assures me). In front of the huge fireplace is the DJ stand where Terry Zabini stands playing the various music orbs people have dropped off.

Abraxas takes me in his arms and we start dancing. With a sigh of relief I realize that I know what I'm doing! My friends and I used to dance like this all the time (granted we were usually goofing off then and dancing like our parents when they get drunk but….) Still, I wasn't making a total fool of myself or blowing my cover and that was all that matters.

A few songs later Abraxas leaves me to get us drinks. Not wanting to stand in the middle of the dance floor by myself, I walked off to the side and sat down on a couch. While I waited for Abraxas to come back, I thought. I am a completely different person here in this peaceful world. Well, not totally peaceful what with Grindlewald…. But I love it here! I know I'll go home eventually but for now, I can completely reinvent myself. I'm already in a different house! I can be happy, carefree; I can have a normal childhood for once. What about my friends? What about them?! They'll still be my friends; I'll just make more friends here. Here, I'm not in the shadow of anyone. I can be whoever! No worrying, no fighting, no near-death experiences or major catastrophes every freaking year! I can truly be who I want to be! And best of all, no obnoxious, lovable older brothers getting in my way and cock-blocking all my boyfriends….

I could practically see the Slytherin smirk taking shape on my face. And as if to prove my point,

"Well, well, look who's turning into quite the Slytherin!" I put on my innocent face and looked up into the smirking face of Tristan Zabini.

"How do you mean?" I ask.

"The smirk." Ah, my infamous Slytherin smirk – greatly detested by all back in, well, my time. Gryffindors hated that I had it, Slytherins hated that I used it. Second only to Draco Malfoy's smirk, it was said. I stuck my tongue out at Tristan and made a face. He fakes pain and falls onto the couch next to me.

"Oh no! My maturity, it's all gone!" He cries woefully. I smirk. And then he tickled me relentlessly.

After a good two minutes of my swatting at him and pleading for him to stop amidst my laughter, he lets up and I sit up, holding my sides, but happy. I stuck my tongue out again and smirked, letting him know that I had won, because I said so.

"Have you seen Abraxas?" I ask. "He's supposed to be my date but he disappeared a while ago." I didn't miss that Tristan's face fell noticeably when I say that Abraxas is my date.

"Ginny I'm so sorry – I saw him slip into the dorms with Virginia Yaxeley a little while ago. If I had known he was your date…"

"Oh." I sigh. Oh well.

"Ginny, Abraxas is a whore. He's filthy rich, incredibly handsome and knows that as long as his reputation is intact he'll still receive his full inheritance." I snort. Sounds like someone I know.

"Believe me, I know the type." I say. Tristan smiles sadly.

"I'll beat him up for you." He offers seriously. Woah, what? The Malfoys and Zabinis from my time are inseparable! Draco and Blaise are best mates! Could this generation really hate each other that much? I voiced the latter part of my shock and Tristan laughed.

"No, no, Ginbug! Abe is my best friend. He just has no idea how to treat a lady is all." At that moment Abraxas and Virginia stumble out of the boys' dormitories. He looks normal but she is read as a tomato and delusional-happy. I answer Tristan without taking my eyes from the sexed-up pair.

"That may be but from the looks of it he sure knows how to please a woman!" I spin around when there is no reply and see Tristan staring at me wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "What?!"

"You don't believe in saving yourself for marriage?" he asks cautiously.

"No of course not!" I reply. And then I remember. What in the '90s is considered prudish, here is considered respectful. What in the '90s is considered normal, here is considered whore-ish. Oops. "I mean, it's just not a big deal where I come from." I cover.

"And where might that be?" Uhh….

"Tristan m'boy! You made it!" Abraxas cheers. Thank Merlin!

"Abraxas m'boy!" Tristan bellows just as happily. Then seriously, "Hand it over." Huh?

"Hand what over?" Abraxas replies, slurring his words. Oh.

"The alcohol, dumbass! I have no idea where you got it but you're finished. We've got practice tomorrow and you're drunk." Practice?

"Noooo – I cancelled!"

"You what? No Abe you can't cancel!"

"The whole team is here though!"

"You're the only one who's been drinking. Enough alcohol and there is still practice tomorrow. If you're going to be Quidditch captain you're going to have to be responsible!" Quidditch. Now that's a sport I understand!

"Nowa don't!" Abraxas slurred. "Just hafta be good!" This was getting painful to watch. Rule number one: don't try telling a drunken person to be responsible. It won't work. Rule number two: You can't argue with a drunken person. You just can't; it won't get you anywhere. Rule number three: If said drunken person is a Malfoy, don't even attempt to take the alcohol away. He will fight you. Believe me; I speak from experience, though I won't tell how I have said experience. Sighing, I stand up.

"Abraxas, I think it's time you come with me, okay?" I say. When he sees me next to him he pales (as much as a Malfoy can pale, that is).

"Oh no… Ginny I'm sorry! I forgot about you. I shagged Virginia." I roll my eyes. Oye…

"Yes, I know." I say, taking his arm and lacing it around my shoulder. I encourage him to lean his weight on me. "Come on Malfoy, it's time you go back to you room."

"I've been a naughty boy." He gigged. Oh Merlin, he's reached the giggling stage. I don't have much time. Tristan takes me aside and Abraxas nearly collapses onto the floor.

"Ginny what are you doing?"

"I'm getting him to bed. He's drunk and he needs to sleep it off." I tear myself away from Tristan and pick my date off the floor.

"Oof – Merlin, he's deadweight when he's drunk." I say to myself as I struggled to drag Abraxas to his room.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, warty forty florty Hoggy Warty hogwarts!!" Abraxas sings operatically before passing out on my shoulder and starting to snore. Oh no you don't! I shake him a bit and slap his cheek. He wakes up and begins mumbling something incoherent.

Let's see, he's a prefect so his room should be in the hallway. The first door we pass reads "Orion Black, 5th Year Prefect". Ah, the infamous Orion Black. Lovely.

"Isa lass un." Abraxas mumbles.

"What is?"

"My oom. Isa lasst un. Nera sairs." The last one near the stairs. Okay then. I helped his drunken self get down the hallway and opened the already unlocked door. We stumbled into his room and he toppled onto the big comfy looking bed. Within seconds he was sound asleep and snoring lightly. I sigh audibly. Having done this more than enough times for my brothers (and once for Draco Malfoy though I still refuse to give details on that) I take off his shoes and transfigure his clothing into pajamas. When he rolls over onto his side, I smile. He looks so peaceful and, well, adorable.

"He sleeps in his underwear, not pajamas." I spin around and find myself staring at the one person I was most definitely **not** ready to face.

"W-What?" I studder.

"You transfigured his clothing into pajamas when you really should have just taken them off." The boy explains.

"And you know this how?" I demand. "Besides what are you even doing there?" The boy snorts.

"I heard the singing – though admittedly it did sound more like something was dying – and I came to see what was going on. As for how I know he sleeps in his underwear, he hardly tries to conceal himself when he's walking around the dormitories."

"Oh." I say, not looking directly at either boy. With a swish of my wand Abraxas's clothing vanishes. All of it. I blush.

"Oops." Another swish and he is wearing underwear again. The boy in the doorway chuckles.

"Thinking about him naked were you?" I ignore that and push him out into the hallway, closing the door behind me. He chuckles again. "I don't think we've been properly introduced yet. I'm Tom. Tom Riddle."

"Yeah, I know." I say quickly. Oh no…

"Okay, how?"

"I'm Ginny Peverell." I say.

"Nice to meet you Ginny, but that was the second question of mine you have ignored."

"Well I'm not going to answer either of them so get over it." I say strongly, pushing past him and starting down the hallway. He jumps in front of me and blocks my path.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"I think I at least have the right to know how you know me when you've just gotten here!" He nearly shouts. Boy, he sure has a temper.

"Well too bad!" I shout back. Yeah, I have a temper too.

"Tell me!" He commands.

"No!" I'm not scared of him! He glares at me. His voice drops about two octaves when he speaks next.

"You don't know what I'm capable of, Peverell."

"No Riddle, I'm pretty sure I do. In fact, I probably know more than everyone here, including yourself." My voice has dropped an octave or two as well, and I'm whispering harshly. "I may be "new" but I know far more than everyone thinks. I'd advise you to keep that in mind."

As I walked away I thought about what I had said. Was it okay that I had told of my knowledge? Would it be alright that I had dropped a few hints about who I am? Oh well, what's done is done right? Hopefully I haven't caused any major damage. Just as I was about to walk back into the party I turned to face him. He was still standing where I left him, a mixture of fury and shock etched on his face.

"By the way, you're a lot hotter than I remember."

* * *

"Tell me everything!" Cassie squealed, bouncing up and down on my bed.

"Shh," I giggle, climbing onto the bad and sitting cross-legged across from her, "you'll wake the others."

With a smirk, Cassie casts a silencing spell on my bed curtains so that my argument would be flawed. So long as her spell held, we could be as loud as we pleased (which is a good thing because I had a feeling Cassie will shriek when I tell her about my night).

"Okay, where should I start?" I ask. I was never great at this girl-talk stuff.

"Start from when you disappeared onto the dance floor with Abraxas Malfoy!" I laugh at her enthusiasm.

"We just danced. He's a great dancer."

"And how did you end up being tickled to death by Tristan Zabini?" she prodded. I smiled at the memory.

"Well Abraxas went to get us drinks, but then he disappeared. Tristan came over and was talking to me. The tickling… I don't even know. But when Abraxas finally showed his face again he was drunk and had been off shagging Virginia." I didn't notice how bitter my voice sounded.

"That… that…" Cassie shuddered angrily.

"Please, it's fine." I wave away her concerns.

"Scarlet woman!" she whispers. I laugh, reminded of my mother and Ron.

"Anyways, I took him to his room and got him in bed. As I was leaving – he was out cold – I ran into Tom Riddle." I say, purposefully leaving out, erm, certain details.

"Oh my god!! Details? What happened?" I shake my head no.

"Not telling." I answer quietly. Suddenly Cassie looks very angry.

"Excuse me? Are we not friends?" Oh crap. Merlin, I need this girl to be my friend!

"Of course!" I exclaim, "It's just I-uh – I just don't really want to talk about it. That is, I kind of want to keep the details to myself, you know?" I smile hesitantly and Cassie's glare becomes a wild grin. Suddenly she's squealing and bouncing up and down again.

"You like him. Of course! Oh Ginny I'm so sorry for getting angry! I jumped to horrible conclusions and I was so hurt that you wouldn't tell me –ugh, I'm such a bloody Hufflepuff!" she moans. I snort. I was thinking she was more like a Gryffindor but I didn't comment. "Of course you like him! Oh I can just see it now! You'd be so cute together! Merlin, isn't he gorgeous?" She says this all very quickly and I don't think she took a single breath through it all. Of course I can't help but laugh.

"He's gorgeous, all right." I reply, rolling my eyes. And he was incredibly good looking. But I don't like him that way. Not after all he's done. **(A/N Will do technically, but Ginny doesn't feel like admitting that)** "Now, how was your night?" I ask.

The long winded girl launched into the rather uneventful story of her night, while I sat back. She mentioned that she had heard a few rumors about my arrival going around but they didn't matter, in my opinion, so long as none were the truth. After a little while, I told her I was tired and she went to her own bed. I switched off the light and said goodnight.

But I didn't sleep. Instead, I lay awake, thinking.

Why was I here? McGonagall hadn't really told me. She probably just wanted to get rid of me; I was complaining quite a bit, I realize. So what am I to do? I already decided that I would "Recreate" myself and be who I want to be. I can forget who I am back home; I can forget what is happening back home. I can live like everyone else and go home when Dumbledore figured out how to send me home. But you can't exactly leave your whole life behind, can you? Not without a memory charm and I'm not exactly willing to try one of those. (More like I will completely refuse one to the point of death.)

Mulling all of this over, I fell asleep. I dreamt of Abraxas Malfoy and his amazing body. I dreamt of Tristan and how nice he was. I dreamt of Harry and Ron and Hermione and felt sick with missing them. And I dreamt of Tom Riddle; mostly, Tom Riddle.

Boy was he an enigma.

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**A/N** - So she finally met Tom!!! What did you think?

Kylie Potter, I already know what you think. =P


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - **I'm extremely proud of myself for writing and posting this chapter less than 24 hours after posting chapter 5. And it's not a short chapter either!! I'm not going to put a disclaimer on every chapter, you may have noticed, because I figure after saying it on everything you pretty much get the idea.

Enjoy!! And let me know what you think please!

* * *

When I woke up the next morning my roommates were already up and moving about. Smiling tiredly, I mumbled good morning at the girls and made my way into the bathroom. After a quick shower, a trip to the toilet and a strong freshening up spell I was nice and awake.

"Ginny," Cassie said when I came out of the bathroom, "Eileen Prince came by a moment ago with your school robes. They're on your bed." I thank her and begin to dress on my bed. Eileen Prince… she's Snape's mom, isn't she?

"Eileen is the 7th year prefect," One of the girls explains, "And a total know-it-all." I smile, thinking of Hermione. The girls laugh.

"At least she's nice and helps people with their assignments." A second unknown voice chimes in.

"Yes, she's not nearly as bad as McGonagall!" Virginia Yaxely sneers. I'm not so sure I like this girl. "Excuse me, but do you have a pass young man?" She says, obviously imitating the head girl. The other girls laugh uproariously. I notice Cassie is not joining in.

"Excuse me, I'm head girl!" The girl who had talked about Eileen Prince mocks and the girls laugh some more. I snort. They sound more like Percy than McGonagall.

"I don't know," I say, getting off my bed, "She seems like one of those types that will become a teacher here some day." The girls stop laughing. "I wouldn't want to mess with her too much – she might get a grudge and take it out on your children."

The room is silent while the girls look back and forth at each other, trying to decide whether this is worth considering. Finally Virginia speaks up.

"Yeah right! That Gryffindor bitch can't stand it when people are don't understand what's being taught. She doesn't have the temperament to be a teacher." That seems to settle it for the girls and they finish putting the final touches on their hair and makeup. I shrug and look down and my own uniform.

The uniforms here are a lot different than the ones from my time. In fact, in my opinion we look more like muggle secondary school students than young witches and wizards in training, but I won't mention that to the girls. We all had on pressed black skirts that went a bit past our knees, white blouses tucked into the skirt and flesh-colored pantyhose or tights. Our house ties were mandatory of course, but instead of an outer robe with our house crest as part of the uniform, we wore black blazers with a stripe of green (in Slytherin's case) on the lapels. The only part of the uniform I am not so fond of is the choice of footwear. Girls wore either loafers or heels, neither of which I like nor like me.

"Ready to go, Ginny?" I grab my standard-issue white messenger bag and follow Cassie and the other girls out the door. Everyone, it seems, had decorated their bags on day one and had been adding to them ever since. Mine was the only bag in the whole Slytherin girl's dormitory that didn't have my name in glitter and fancy/fun doodles and pins covering the rest of the bag. I made a mental note to at least put my name on the front.

When we reach the common room I'm a little shocked to see it so full. Boys dressed much the same as the girls (except in black slacks and not wearing heels) stood around talking or tying their shoes. I see Abraxas standing over by the portrait hole. He's leaning casually against the stone wall, his black blazer slung over his shoulder and his tie hanging untied around his neck. He sees me looking and grins.

"Oh my, Virginia looks who's coming this way!" Rosalyn Parkinson whispers excitedly. She's giggling and pointing at Abraxas. Virginia smirks and straightens up.

"Hush Rosie! I see him." Virginia replies. I smirk, because he's not even looking at her. Now he's standing right in front of me and smiling like he just beat Gryffindor at Quidditch.

"Hi." He greets. I smirk.

"What? No 'thank you' for making sure you didn't pass out on the floor of the common room and get trampled by crazy dancing housemates?" I say sarcastically. His face falls.

"About that, I'm really sorry and thank you. I mean it." He says, not quite meeting my eye.

"I already said it was fine, though you may not remember that. And you're welcome." I reply. Behind me, Virginia is shocked and glaring at the back of my head while all my other roommates (except Cassie) are watching with their eyebrows up at their hairlines. Abraxas grins.

"Well maybe I can make it up to you? Would you like a tour of the castle later?" A tour of the castle, now why does that sound familiar? Shit! McGonagall! I was supposed to join her on her rounds last night and get a tour of the castle. Oops.

"Sure." I answer to Abraxas.

"Splendid!" Splendid? Do people really say splendid? Virginia pushes past muttering to herself about stupid boys and shoves out the portrait hole. Rosalyn and two of my other roommates (I think their names are Georgina and Clarissa) follow hurriedly. Abraxas notices this and looks away. I raise my eyebrow.

"Ginny, I'm going to go ahead and save us a seat." Cassie says, rushing off after them. I raise my other eyebrow as well at this. Abraxas laughs and offers me his arm. I take it and walk with him out into the hallway.

"So exactly how hung-over are you?" I ask him when we're halfway down the corridor.

"Not as hung-over as I thought I would be." He answers, laughing quietly.

"Hung over enough that you forgot to tie your tie?" I ask, grinning at him. He stops walking and is suddenly very interested in the glowing torch behind me.

"Actually, I was going to ask you to tie it" He admits. Was he now? "I thought maybe it could be a good conversation starter." I was confused. He seemed like a real lady-charmer last night, why was Abraxas Malfoy suddenly so shy?

"Okay." I answer. I reach out and grab one end of his tie. He steps close to me and I take the other end as well. In a few short moments the tie is perfectly tied. I'm pleased to see that Abraxas is a bit surprised.

"I think that's the best my tie's ever been tied!" he gasps, looking from the tie, to me, and back to the tie.

"I have six brothers and some of my best friends are boys. Over the years I have perfected the art of tying ties!" I explain. So much for reinventing myself.

"Six brothers…"

"They're not here. They're all older and out of school." Well, technically Ron should be in his 7th year but obviously that's not happening. Abraxas perks up at the news, glad that he won't be watched like a hawk by protective older brothers.

"Good." He says. "So if I decide I want to kiss you, I won't have to worry about getting hexed by a sibling right?" Kiss me? Well, well, that's more like the Abraxas Malfoy from last night.

"If you decide you want to kiss me, then you should probably get on with it because I'm not going to stand here forever." I tease. He smirks. The Malfoy smirk. I feel a familiar tug near my naval. Oh gods I really want to kiss that smirk off his handsome face! He cups my chin and leans in. At the last second, he stops.

"You know what? I think I'll wait awhile before kissing you." He says. I pull away, confused. "You're different from all the girls here Ginny. I have a feeling I should get to know you first before making a move." Dazed and confused, I push away from him and walk down the corridor alone.

What the hell just happened? As much as I had wanted him to kiss me moments ago, a part of me is seriously glad he didn't. What was I thinking? I've been here less than a day! Even in my own time I'd be considered a slut for getting with a guy after barely a day! Ugh!

I ran up the stairs and into the entrance hall. The last few students were making their way into the Great hall for breakfast and I followed them in and took a seat next to Cassie at the Slytherin table.

"What took so long? Where's Malfoy?" she asked in an excited whisper.

"Later." I say, shaking my head. She understands and passes me an omelet menu.

"You just tell the plate what you want and it appears." She says. "And of course if you don't want an omelet there's plenty else on the table."

Just as the omelet I ordered appears on my plate, Headmaster Dippet stands and calls for quiet.

"Good morning students! I hope you all had a good night's sleep and are ready to learn!" I raise an eyebrow at Cassie and she rolls her eyes. This is normal behavior for the headmaster apparently. "The heads of houses will be coming around with your schedules momentarily. All first year students will see that on Thursdays they have the first hour off as a free period, which today will be used for a tour of the castle, given by our head boy and girl." Abraxas had slipped in a few minutes ago and was trying to get my attention. I ignored him. "Lastly, I have been informed that the Slytherin Quidditch team will be practicing today after classes and anybody considering trying out should plan to attend. That is all!"

The Great Hall suddenly became awash with noise as people dug into their breakfast. I too, piled food onto my plate and began eating.

"That's so refreshing to see, you have no idea!" I jumped at the sound of Tristan's voice in my ear. He was sitting next to me again; the amount of food piled on his plate enough to rival Fred and George's usual plates. (Not Ron's though, because Ron eats as if he's eating for three.)

"What is?" I ask after having swallowed a delicious bite of omelet.

"Your plate." I look down and see that I have only a little less food on my plate than he has on his. Also, Virginia is staring disgustedly, as if to say "how dare you be a girl with that amount of food on your plate". I have a feeling she's still pretty upset about the whole Abraxas thing. I laugh.

"I have a very quick metabolism." I tell Tristan. "And in my family there's no such thing as full; unless you've got a plate heaped with food, my mum won't believe a word you say and you'll just be hungry again in an hour." Tristan laughs.

"Your family sounds great." He says. My face falls.

"They are great." I say sadly. Merlin I miss them. I miss Ron reaching for the bacon as if it's all going to disappear in seconds. I miss Harry laughing loudly as Hermione grimaces and tells Ron to slow down and cover his mouth when he speaks. I miss reading mum's letters telling me to make sure her boys (meaning Harry and Ron) are eating properly and to make sure Hermione gets out in the sun every now and then. With a terrible jolt, I realize that even if I were back home, I'd be feeling the same way.

"Ginny? Earth to Ginny, are you okay?" I've been quietly staring at my plate for who knows how long and Tristan is clearly concerned. Looking up, I see my new friends watching me, worry evident in their eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just miss them." Cassie nods understandingly and rubs a soothing hand on my back. Tristan tries to smile.

"You should come by and watch our practice later. Even though you're not trying out, it'll still cheer you up!" he suggests. Maybe it will, but I know something that will cheer me up even more…

"Sure." I reply, thinking that if I can get my hands on a broom I'll be good to go. Content, Tristan goes back to his food and I smirk, planning exactly how I'm going to cheer up. Cassie had been rather adamant yesterday that girls don't interfere with Quidditch here at Hogwarts...

"_Hey Cassie, is there a chaser position open on the Quidditch team?" I called to her from the bathroom. It was just Cassie and I left in the dorm room; the rest of the girls had already gone down to the party._

"_What? I don't know. Why?" I came out of the bathroom and turned for her to zip up my dress. _

"_Just wondering." I answer, trying to sound nonchalant._

"_I don't really pay attention to Quidditch. I mean, I go to matches and cheer for Slytherin but it's not really for us girls." We both turn around and now it's my turn to zip up her dress. _

"_How do you mean?" I ask. Of course it's for girls!_

"_I mean, girls don't play Quidditch, Ginny." She replies as if I'm a little girl who doesn't know any better. _

"_Of course they do! Haven't you heard of the all girls team in Wales, the Holyhead Harpies? They're the second oldest team in the league!" I cry indignantly. Not to mention my absolute favorite team!_

"_Yes of course. I meant here at Hogwarts. Here at school, girls don't play Quidditch. It's not against the rules or anything, we just don't." _

"_But that's so -" I start._

"We_ don't think it's unfair. It's just the way things are." Cassie explains, slipping on her shoes and tossing me a pair to try on._

"_What if -" I try. _

"_Case closed Ginny. That's the way it is, that's the way it's always been, and that's the way it's going to continue to be." She says firmly. "Now come on, we've got a party to go to."_

My fingers closed tightly around my fork. I stabbed some bacon and brought the food to my mouth, smirking. I couldn't wait for this afternoon when classes let out.

"Gin-bug? You're rather scary when you chuckle softly and smirk at the wall." I turn and see Tristan smiling hesitantly.

Oh yeah, I am so shaking things up.

* * *

**A/N** - well? I have no idea if girls actually did play at Hogwarts during the 40s and if they did, I'm sorry but I need them not to for this story. And yes of course she's going to try out for the team! She's Ginny! She can't not play Quidditch! =D


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N** - Chapter Seven up already! Wow! I can't believe I've written and posted two chapters in the same day! And my short chapter disease seems cured at the moment so I'm really hoping it'll stay cured. Thank you so much to all my readers - you give me an incentive to keep writing this thing!

**Quickie Disclaimer: **Everything you recognize belongs to JKR.

* * *

"Ginny don't do this…" Cassie pleads, struggling to keep up as I hurriedly strolled toward the Quidditch pitch. I turned on her.

"Cassie," She stops immediately and looks at me, surprised at my tone of voice, "My entire family is fighting in the war but instead of being able to help, I was sent here. I have no way of getting in touch with them; I don't know what's going on and I have no way of knowing if they are okay. I'm completely in over my head and until last night I felt totally alone. But I'm starting to make friends and it's getting better. I really want to continue to call you a friend but for that to happen you have to support me. I'm good at Quidditch. I love Quidditch! Quidditch is the one connection I have to home and I'm not just going to let it slip away. I'm trying out for the team and I'm going to make it, because I'm damn good. Quidditch is the one thing I will ever brag about and I'm bragging. I'll be the first girl to make a place on a Hogwarts Quidditch team and so what if people talk at first? As soon as they see me they'll understand. I need this Cassie and if you can't accept that, turn around now and don't look back. I'm going to need someone to be there for me and I want that person to be you. If it can't be, oh well. I'm used to not getting what I want."

Even I'm shocked at the words that came out of my mouth. Cassie had been pleading nearly all day with me to not try out and I was sick of it. My Weasley temper flared up and I didn't try to hold it back. Across from me, standing up straight and breathing normally again, Cassie stood limply. She didn't show any signs of being mad at me for shouting at her. Instead, her eyes were watering and she looked as if she wanted to hug me.

"Oh Ginny, I had no idea." I smile at her and keep walking, this time making sure to walk at a pace she could handle. "It's just, I was so shocked. I'm sure you're an amazing player Ginny and you'll make the team for sure."

Together we walked down to the Quidditch pitch and sat at the edge of the field with about 20 other, mostly first through third years. Soon the team (sans a chaser and a beater, if my guessing was correct) was standing in front of the group and everyone fell silent. Abraxas stood a bit closer to the group I was sitting with and in the center of the standing team. I knew already that he was the captain and I hoped he had been able to take something to help his hangover by now.

"Hello to everyone." He started. "So for those of you who have come to try out, we have two positions open – a chaser position and a beater position. If you won't try out for either of those positions, leave now because those are the only positions in need of filling. Also, to the first years here – you may stay and watch but don't think you're trying out. You're not allowed your own broom and you have yet to have a flying lesson here at school. Don't argue; you can come back next year. Next, if you have no idea how to play Quidditch, leave now. We take only the best, and to be the best you have to know what the hell you're doing. We don't have time to teach you how to play. Now, for those of you still considering trying out, I hope you're in shape because this is going to be a rough day. If you don't have your own broom you can get one from the pile over there; meet me in the center of the field when you're ready to start."

With that, everyone began moving about. The team went to wait in the center of the field and it seemed that Abraxas was explaining how tryouts were going to work. A group of first years got up and moved to the stands, along with a few upperclassmen who had probably wanted a different position and a few second and third years who I'm assuming didn't know how to play. I stood up, brushed the dirt off my shorts (I had transfigured my skirt in the bathroom after class) and walked over to pick out a school broom.

I almost laughed out loud when I saw the collection of close-to-new Comet 180's and Cleansweep 3s.

"I think they just got a new supply of broomsticks last year." Cassie explains, coming up behind me. Yeah, and they won't be getting a new supply in thirty or forty years! I pick up a Cleansweep 3 and admire the workmanship. Not as good as the twins' fives and obviously not as good as any of the Nimbus models and the firebolt, but of course Nimbus hadn't started making brooms yet and the firebolt wouldn't be created for a few decades after Nimbus starts.

"Okay well wish me luck!" I say happily, though in reality I am really nervous. Cassie hugs me.

"Good luck. I'll be up in the stands. You'll be great!" with that she runs off and I jog to the center of the field. Most of the other kids trying out are already there and have brooms in their hands. Nobody, it seems, has a "bad" broom and you can't tell who is holding their own broom and who is holding a borrowed one.

"Gin-bug you're not trying out, are you?" Tristan asks. All eyes turn and look at me and I try very hard not to blush.

"I am actually." I answer, keeping my voice strong. Abraxas takes initiative and comes over to where I stand.

"Uh, Ginny, girls don't really play Quidditch here at Hogwarts. The game can get pretty rough and it's -" he tries to explain, but I cut him off.

"You said this morning you thought there was something different about me." I say. "You were right. I'm not like other girls here, and I'm not going to back down. In fact, I would really appreciate it if we got started because I haven't flown in a while and I'm anxious to get in the air."

Shocked and probably a little big angry, Abraxas turns back to the rest of the group. "Um, okay. The Slytherin team is not only the best in the air; we're the best on the ground too. All of our team members are required to be extremely in shape and strong so um we're going to start by running laps around the field." A few of the boys groan. A good few of them look to me. I'm already stretching my legs, excitedly anticipating the exercise.

"It's a big field and today is only the try-outs, so two laps will be fine. If you get too tired to continue though, go take your place in the stands. Start as soon as you're stretched." The rest of the group immediately put down their brooms and started stretching but I was done. I turned to start off for the edge of the field but Abraxas caught my arm.

"I respect your wishes to try out Ginny but I don't think it's a good idea. Just because you're a girl doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you. If you want to be a part of this team you have to be the best and quite frankly I'm not so sure a girl can be the best." He tells me quietly. I nod. Hell, it's the forties, what can you do?

"Then I want you to promise me something." I reply. He raises an eyebrow and gestures for me to continue. Some of the other boys were starting to run their laps. "I want you to promise me that you will push me harder than the rest of these guys. I know for a fact I'm good enough and I know most people won't believe it if they don't see that I'm doing harder stuff and still doing well. You say you won't go easy on me; I say, 'bring it on'."

Abraxas sighs, as if he can't believe he's about to agree, "Okay." I smile and jog to the edge of the field. As I start running at a steady pace I see Abraxas and Tristan get on their brooms and start to fly along the edge, giving feedback and orders to the kids trying out. Halfway through my first lap, Abraxas turns away from a kid a few ahead of me and comes to fly beside me. I'm still running at a steady pace and hope Abraxas won't tell me to increase my speed just yet. However, he says nothing. I glance up at him out of the corner of my eye and see him chuckling. I glare and he flies away to check on someone else.

A little while later, the group had lost a few members to the stands and Terry Zabini now stood at the original starting point telling people to speed up as they entered their second lap. As I approached him, I was really glad I had picked a steady jogging speed for my first lap.

"What, no labored breathing? No heavy steps?" he jeers as I get near to him. "Well that won't do will it? It seems like you have barely been trying! Speed it up girlie and don't think you can get away with being slow just because you wear heels all the time." I snort. Today had to be the first time I wore heels since Bill's wedding – and that had been the first time in years!

"You want speed, skinny boy? Let's race!" I call, passing him. Not one to decline a challenge, Terry throws off his Slytherin Quidditch team outer robe and called to a teammate to take over before sprinting for a moment to catch up to me.

"You don't think you can beat me in a race do you girlie?" he asks, running beside me.

"Yes, I do. I'll race you from that post -" I say, referring to a post about 10 meters ahead of us, "-to the one opposite it on the other side of the field."

"Half the field?" I nod and give him a questioning look, asking with my expression if he was up for it. "Easy! What does the winner get?" He asks. The starting post is quickly approaching, but we've slowed down to negotiate terms.

"Pride and glory," I answer. "Get ready to lose; here comes the post!"

And then we're off. I quicken my pace and am running at a fast but steady pace, knowing full well that if I want to still be breathing at the end of this I have to conserve my energy. Terry though, it seems, has not thought about this and took off at a sprint the moment we crossed the starting point. I roll my eyes and can tell immediately that I am going to win. Starting with a sprint was a weakness that most of my brothers had. I much preferred racing Harry; racing him was always more of a challenge because he, like me, used strategy. The entire team had stopped to watch Terry and I. He had originally been far ahead of me, but now, as he reached the halfway mark, I could tell he was slowing down, getting tired. I however, was still perfectly fine.

"What are you doing?" Tristan calls to me, flying close on his broom.

"Racing your brother!" I answer. "He's going to lose."

"You do realize he's way ahead of you right?" Tristan asks. I sigh inwardly (because outwardly I'm concentrating on keeping my breathing regular). Why must girls be thought so little of in this time?

"You do realize he's an idiot who started sprinting when he should have conserved his energy for the last half of the race right?" I retort. "He's going to lose; you just watch."

Am I right? Of course I'm right!

By the time Tristan reported back to Abraxas what was happening, Terry had slowed to a jog and still had almost half the race to complete. I gained on him and slowed down and ran backwards as I past him.

"Hey skinny, how's it going?" he growled at me and tried to speed up, but I turned back around and sped off. I blew a kiss to a stunned Abraxas as I turned the corner into the last quarter of the race.

"You want the best Abe? I am the best!" And then I sprinted. Within seconds I had won the race and everyone was clapping. After a few moments Terry came jogging up behind me.

"I want a rematch." He pants. The team laughs.

"Sure, but I think Abraxas wants to continue with the tryouts." I reply, and the team laughs again.

Soon the remaining group was divided into two different groups – one for those trying out for chaser; one for those trying out for beater. I stood with the chasers, obviously. There were eight people trying out for chaser and five trying out for beater. Of the "beaters" group, only two of them really had the build of a beater, and two of them were so scrawny I'm surprised they had made it through the two laps. The last one was young – a second or third year, I'd guess – but he definitely had potential. In a year or two he'd hit the peak of puberty and bulk up to a beater's build. I had seen him running too and he was definitely athletic. The chasers… well, I have to admit I'm not as sure of myself as I was a little while ago. Four of the eight were definitely not chaser material, but the others… I'd have to wait and see them fly before deciding what I was up against.

The beaters went first. Abraxas had them fly two circuits around the pitch and try out a few complicated zig-zag patterns as well. He then narrowed the selection down to three – the two I had picked out as having a beaters build and the young one with potential. Terry Zabini was the current beater on the team and Abraxas had each of the three kids rally the bludger with Terry and try a few complicated passing patterns. Eventually he chose the young kid with potential – Kendall Blishwick.

"All right, chasers you're up!" Abraxas called as Kendall took his place standing with the team. We stood up with our brooms and looked expectantly at the captain. "I want to see how you fly first so all of you are going to do two circuits around the pitch and then come back to the center."

Easy-peasy. We all made it around quickly and got back to the center.

"Okay, that was good. Now in groups of four I want to see the same zig zag pattern I had the beaters do." Abraxas announces. Knowing exactly what pattern that was, I took off and did the pattern perfectly whiles all but a few of the others struggled to remember what it was. Back at the center, Abraxas told four of the kids to go to the stands and thank you for trying out. That left me hovering in the air with the three other kids I was now sure weren't as good as I was.

Tristan and a boy I recognized as Virginia's twin Roderick then got on their brooms and flew up to us. Tristan was holding a Quaffle.

"Now I know you can fly. Let's see how you do with a Quaffle."

Tristan had us run all sorts of passes with Tristan and Roderick. I put a lot of effort into it but I knew my real chance to shine was yet to come. When Abraxas called us back to the center he once again narrowed it down. Now it was between me and a fourth year whose name I can't remember.

"Nott! Get in goal!" Abraxas bellowed to Tomas Nott, the keeper, who rushed over to the goal posts and situated himself. Abraxas turned back to me and the fourth year. "We'll have a shoot out. You each get ten tries to score. Who wants to start?" Eager to please, the boy sped off toward Tristan and took the Quaffle.

He missed on his first try. He tried for his second and missed again. On his third he made it into the left goal post. He kept making it until his eighth try and missed the last two.

"Six out of ten. Not bad. Ginny, you're up." Abraxas announced. I took the Quaffle and started shooting.

Not to brag or anything but…

"Ten out of ten!" Tristan exclaimed when I was done. "Damn Abe maybe we better find a new keeper!" he joked. But Abe didn't look too amused.

"Team! On your brooms! Chasers run patterns with Ginny and see that every shot is taken by her. Beaters - split up and play as separate teams. Blishwick shoots at the chasers while Zabini stops them from actually getting hurt. Nott – you try your damn hardest not to let Ginny score you hear me?"

"What should I do Captain?" the fourth year who was trying out asks.

"Go sit in the stands for a bit, I want to make sure Ginny wasn't just getting lucky before I choose." The fourth year flies off to the stands and the team gets in place. "You told me to bring it on Ginny; I hope you can handle this." Abraxas warns before flying up to watch (he was the seeker and was going to watch me instead of the snitch)

Abraxas soon realized it wasn't just luck that had me scoring a ten out of ten in the shoot out. Out of another ten shots on goal, with bludgers flying at me constantly and Tristan and Roderick having me pull all sorts of stunts, I made eight of them.

Obviously, I made the team. I'm pretty sure Abraxas is still in shock.

-----------------

**A/N** -- yay for actually updating stories!!! Reviews are really nice and helpful so please keep reviewing!!

Thank you so much for reading my fanfics -- you guys are great and if it weren't for you this story would probably not have gotten past chapter two! Thank you so much!

~onceuponawonderland


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N** - Here's chapter 8. Just like the last few chapters, chapter 8 is a continuation of her second day. After this chapter though, I'll be skipping ahead a bit. Not sure how far but if I continue writing a few chapters for each day she's there, I'll have 20 chapters before she's even there two weeks. And obviously, I'll be writing two years worth for this story because she's there until she graduates. And also, I'm kind of sick of her "adjusting period" and I want to get a move on with this story.

**Disclaimer **- Do I really have to say it again? Not mine.

Enjoy!

* * *

If the rest of the Slytherins had an opinion about my being the new chaser for their Quidditch team, they didn't say anything. I could tell that some of the girls were more than confused and a lot of the boys were a bit upset but other than that they kept quiet. Only Tom Riddle gave me any lip for it. He caught me just before dinner and pulled me aside.

"You think your rather special don't you?" his tone of voice clearly said that he did not approve. I thought about his question. Did I think I was special? Well, I'm pretty sure I'm the only student here from the future, I'm the first girl to ever make a Hogwarts Quidditch team and I'm not exactly what one would call self-conscious so yes, I think I am special.

"The whole school is saying the only reason you made the team is because you promised to sleep with them all." He tells me smugly, as if this will really hurt me. It does hurt a bit that people here think so little of women that they would come up with reasons like that, but I don't let that show.

"And when the whole school sees me play either at one of our practices or at the first game in November, they'll understand the real reason I made the team." I reply.

"And what is that reason?"

"Simple; I'm the best." Tom snorts.

"Typical. Pureblood Slytherin convinced that you're better than the rest." This angers me quite a bit. First because I can tell he's implying that I'm prejudiced, which I'm not, I'm just the best chaser around. (There's a reason three scouts were at the cup game last year.) Second because I know what he is to become and if there's one thing I hate, it's a hypocrite.

"Listen Riddle and listen good," I say, my voice dropping to the same tone I had around him the previous night, "You can think whatever you want about me when it comes to my actions but do not think for one minute that I am a "typical pureblood Slytherin". I've lived my life being told I'm not good enough, that I'm lower than everyone else, simply because I don't agree with everything I'm 'supposed to' as a pureblood. But I will fight anybody tooth and nail because I know I'm right. Just being myself does not make me better. I'm the best chaser because I've worked my arse off my whole life to be the best." Tom is staring at me now, obviously taken aback by my rant. Nobody calls Ginny Weasley a prejudiced git and gets away with it. I'm a blood-traitor and I'm damn proud of it!

"I just thought -" he defends.

"I know what you thought. You thought I was just like everybody else in this house. Well I'm not."

I stormed off after that to join the rest of the team and go to dinner (Cassie had insisted that we put up a strong, united front because of the rumors).

"What's wrong?" Tristan asks as we walk to the Great Hall.

"Nothing." I say. What a complete lie! Seeing that I'm not going to give a real answer, Tristan turns away.

"What's going on?" Cassie asks quietly, coming up beside me.

"Nothing's going on Cassie." She doesn't accept that.

"Something's going on and you're going to tell me. Did you have another run in with Riddle?" What? How did she know that? As if reading my mind she continues, "You have the same slightly murderous slightly hurt look on your face as last night after your run in." Well that explains it. I clearly have to work on my emotion-less mask.

"Apparently the whole school thinks the only reason I made the team was because I promised the whole team a roll in the hay if they let me in." I admit while letting on that Tom was the one to inform me. Cassie doesn't get it.

"A roll in the hay?"

"They think I promised to sleep with the team, Cassie. The school is calling me a whore."

"Oh." She says. "Don't let it get to you Ginny. You know what you are and that's all that matters."

"I know," I say, because that wasn't the part that was really upsetting me. What had really gotten to me was the one thing I couldn't explain to Cassie and that was Tom himself. He seemed so hateful, as if he really detested the pureblood teachings that they were better than everyone else. And yet he would grow up to be so horrible, killing muggleborns and muggles simply for existing and torturing anyone who disagreed with his actions; it just doesn't make any sense.

"I don't belong here Cass." I say truthfully. "I don't fit in at all." This, after the whole Tom thing, was the second thing that was really bothering me.

"You're just different. That's not a bad thing!" She says.

"But maybe I'm too different. It's one thing to disregard precedent but to believe the exact opposite of others, to not understand why things are the way they are… I'm pretty sure that in my case, it's a bad thing." I don't understand how I got sorted into Slytherin. I felt just as at home in this house than I had in Gryffindor (minus feeling a little homesick) but there was something nagging in the back of my mind that was telling me things weren't right, that it was a little too different.

"Hey guys, does Ginny fit in?" Cassie calls to the rest of the team. A few of the guys look a little hesitant but Tristan answers almost immediately.

"You fit like a glove Ginny - a very beautiful glove – and don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise." That made me feel ten times better and suddenly I was extremely grateful to have Tristan around. Smiling at Cassie, I rush to Tristan's side and take his arm when he offers.

"Thank you." I say.

"For what?" he asks.

"Nothing really, just thank you." He grins and leads me into the Great Hall. I only barely register Abraxas' confused and hurt expression as I sit down and talk with Tristan for the entire meal.

* * *

_I hurried through the empty hallway, my heeled shoes making my footsteps echo through the mansion. Oh boy was I in for it. _

"_Ginerva, you're late." Abraxas states coldly, rising from his seat at the head of the long wooden table. His silver eyes gleamed and he winked at me. _

"_So sorry dear, I was bathing and completely lost track of time." I lied, taking my seat opposite Abraxas. Looking around, I noticed just how full the normally empty dining room was. To my left was a young, beautiful blonde woman - Narcissa Malfoy. Next to her, to his grandfather's right, sat a handsome young man of seventeen. He too had platinum blonde hair and sparkling silver-blue eyes. On Abraxas' left sat Lucius. I smiled. All Malfoy children look so alike. It warmed my heart to see three generations of Malfoy men sitting amongst each other. My family. _

"_Ginerva dear," Abraxas - my husband - spoke, "Your grandson was just sharing some wonderful news. He received a letter this morning from the Dark Lord."_

_I gasped and looked toward my only grandson, eyes wide. "Oh Draco, darling you must be so excited! Oh I've been waiting weeks for this!" he smiles warmly at me and nods, taking a sip of water before replying. _

"_I'm excited and honored to be joining his service." Draco replies. When Lord Voldemort came to power all those years ago his army grew so drastically that now only the best of the best become Death Eaters. "But of course, you'll be there to witness my initiation Grandmother. As you must know, the Dark Lord has asked for you to be present." _

"_Oh Draco we have no time to waste! Narcissa dear you must help me to plan a party in his honor, and I'll have my personal tailor make you an outfit suitable for your initiation ceremony. Oh my dear darling Grandson…" I trailed off, my mind excitedly planning ahead. I had been thrilled when my son Lucius had taken the mark as well, but Draco was my darling grandson – it was my job to fawn and coddle him. Oh this was so exciting!_

_Just then the dining room doors swung open. In stepped my best friend (and often lover) Tristan Zabini. Age had done all of us, (me, my husband and all of our friends) well, but Tristan, it seemed was the most blessed. I longed to be with him again. We have done nothing in months out of respect for his late wife but it has been far too long. _

"_Hello Tristan. To what do we owe this pleasure?" My husband greeted his long time friend. Tristan entered and stood beside me. _

"_The Dark Lord requires your presence." He tells me simply. Of course; the Dark Lord was always "requiring my presence". I had knowledge he deeply needed. I had skills no other Death Eater had. I was, simply put, the best. _

"_Of course," I respond, rising from my seat. "I shall return shortly." With that said I apparated outside Lord Voldemort's throne room (only Death Eaters could do such a thing) and allowed myself to enter, going to stand next to my Lord. I remained silent as he finished initiating a young man into the ranks of Death Eaters. _

"_I know you will serve me well Blaise." Lord Voldemort spoke quietly but every word pierced the air like a knife. I looked down at the boy kneeling at his new master's feet. _

"_I will serve you faithfully, with all my might, master." The eldest son of my god-son replied. _

"_Rise young one. I do not require your services at the moment. You will be informed when I do." Voldemort sneered. He relaxed back in his throne of skulls and snakes and Blaise Zabini rose from the ground. _

"_Your grandfather is at my manor – go there. I am sure my family wishes to give you their congratulations." I say kindly but strongly. Blaise nods and leaves the throne room, surely apparating to my manor. Blaise reminds me of my son Lucius - eager to please, to succeed, to be the best. Draco on the other hand, is so much like Tristan. The Dark Lord interrupts my thoughts and I am pulled back to the present moment. _

"_Ginerva, I require your assistance in a very important matter."_

"_What is it My Lord?" I ask, dropping into the chair that has just now appeared beside his. _

"_A young girl has gained followers at Hogwarts. She must be stopped before she becomes too dangerous." A young girl? Surely it would be so easy that a younger, less important Death Eater could perform this task? _

"_Where might I find her master?" _

"_My sources tell me she will be in Diagon Alley next Thursday. You may take with you whomever you please. Bring her entire family here – she shall watch them die before being allowed to join us, or join her family." I nod. This sounds very similar to tasks performed with Order members at the beginning of Voldemort's take over. He clearly considered this girl to be a threat, or he would not need me to carry out this task. _

"_And her name, My Lord?" I stand, a plan already formulating in my mind, a list of those to accompany me already assembling. The Dark Lord rises as well, to walk me out. _

"_Ginny Weasley."_

I awoke with a start, hitting my head on the backboard. Rubbing the soon-to-be bruise I tried to remember what my dream had been about, and why I felt so confused and scared. I had married Abraxas; the Malfoys were my family and Voldemort was in power. What did it all mean? Puzzled and wary, I fell back to sleep.

When I woke the next morning I didn't remember having dreamt at all.

* * *

**A/N** - So.....? Thoughts?

Love you all! Thank you so much for reading!

~onceuponawonderland


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**- So beyond sorry about how long this has taken. I am a frog. No, I'm worse than a frog. I'm a blast ended screwt. I'm so sorry. Chapter 10 should be up soon too.

* * *

Two weeks. I had been here for two weeks. After the first week, I went to Headmaster Dippet and asked to be placed in all advanced classes. I couldn't stand to be in the regular 6th year classes anymore; everything we were learning, I had already learned in 5th year, or in the case of Defense Against the Dark Arts, 4th year in the DA. Dippet obliged and now I'm taking all "Advanced" classes. So far I loved them. The class sizes were smaller and consisted of the top students from all houses. There was more work, but most of it was projects that we worked on in class. Students were held to a "higher level of responsibility" and were encouraged to learn the material outside of class, so that class time could be spent practicing spells or making potions. Hermione would be bursting with pride. The only downside was that now I had Tom Riddle in every single class, flaunting his knowledge and his perfect marks. Bloody arse.

A few days ago, Tristan asked me on a date and I accepted, much to the delight of the girls in my dorm, especially Virginia. It's obvious she's in love with Abraxas. She seems to think the more she pushes me toward Tristan, the more Abraxas will stop liking me and begin to like her again. And I guess in a way she was right; when Tristan asked me out Abraxas just sort of… gave up. For two weeks he had been flirtatious and suggestive. Normally I would have given in after the first week, but something was stopping me. And then he just stopped. It was odd, though I suppose his friendship just means a lot to him and he didn't want to do anything now that I was "going with" Tristan. As for Tristan, for weeks he had been sweet and kind, standing up for me whenever anyone dared insult me and cheering me up when I felt out of place or overwhelmed. When he asked m e to accompany him on the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, I said yes without even thinking.

And then of course, there is Quidditch. The Slytherin team had regular practice three times a week on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Sundays; the team members were required to do a two hour work out at least three extra times in addition to those practices. It would be an understatement to say that Abraxas worked us relentlessly. But it was worth it, because we would without a doubt be the best teams. Wednesdays were individual group days where each "group" (grouped by position) worked separate of the team. Today was Wednesday and Abraxas was working with the chasers.

"There are three of you; three chasers, on three brooms, each with their own individual mind." We stood on the far side of the field, by the locker rooms dressed in our work out clothes: black athletic shorts, grey tee shirts and trainers. (On Sundays we tended to go shirtless, as the sun was usually unbearable.) Abraxas paced as he lectured us. "By the end of the day I want there to be three chasers, on three brooms, flying as if they shared one mind. You will be able to know where your fellow chasers are at all times. You'll be able to tell what they're going to do before they're going to do it. We will work until you're perfectly in sync. You will become one."

Tristan, Roderick and I look at each other. '_Legimency?'_ we all seem to be thinking,_ 'Is that was Abraxas is touching at?' _But no; when we look back at our captain, he's holding three pieces of black fabric. Blindfolds. This is going to take forever. (Thank Merlin the four of us have Wednesday afternoons off…)

"Blindfolds?" Roderick protests. "You've got to be kidding me!?" Abraxas smirks.

"The beaters are in the Room of Requirement practicing with bludgers, Nott will be joining them to work with a charmed Quaffle and practice hoops. You three will stay here with me, flying around and running drills while blindfolded until you're perfect." He announces, handing each of us a blindfold. We tie them around our eyes. We give each other one last, hesitant glance before the world goes dark.

"Mount your brooms. I'll be on mine to guide you." We mount our brooms and cautiously rise a meter or so in the air. I can feel Tristan to my right, hovering a little bit above me. Roderick has flown forward a ways and hovers there, on my left.

"Align yourselves so that you're in a straight line, all at the same height." It takes us a few minutes to do this, as Abraxas has forbidden us to speak to each other. "Good, now just like this, slowly fly across the pitch in a straight line." It only takes a few seconds for Abraxas to shout "stop!" I couldn't tell exactly where he was, but I knew he must be circling around us because his voice came from different places. "Ginny, you're going a bit faster than Roderick; Tristan you're going slower than Roderick - even it out please." What must have been a half an hour was spent trying to fly across the pitch. Soon though, Abraxas was spacing us out, having us fly farther and farther apart while still staying in line with each other. It was really hard at first. By the time we were able to fly far away from each other, doing tricks and answering Abraxas' rapid-fire questions about the locations, actions and decisions of the other two chasers, we had been flying for_ hours._

"Fly toward Tristan. Circle around him as if taking the Quaffle." Abraxas whispers to me. I nod to tell him I understand and make a sharp turn toward the other end of the pitch where I know Tristan is hovering. Smiling Abraxas flies away.

"Tristan, where is Ginny?" he asks. A few hours ago he'd charmed our blindfolds so that we couldn't see under any circumstances, nor could we take them off until he undid the charm. There was no way for any of us to cheat and Abraxas simply loved it.

"Flying toward me from the opposite corner of the pitch."

"Pull up just as she reaches you." Abraxas calls. Tristan pulls up, shooting into the air as soon as I turn to circle him. I hear Abraxas let out a whoop.

"Ginny – Rod is flying toward you. What's he going to do?" Abraxas asks. I think for a moment and reach out with my senses. Abraxas had me do an exchange pattern for a turn around, meaning a team member stole the Quaffle and needed to pass it off. Most likely, a beater or chaser would try to knock the Quaffle out of my hands at this point. Tristan would be too high to catch the Quaffle should it drop, leaving the only option to be….

"He'll dive as he reaches me, as if to catch a dropped Quaffle." I answer confidently. Abraxas cheers and lets out another loud whoop. We were perfectly in sync.

"Fly to the center!" We fly in; glad to be taking a break. I groan when I heard the tell-tale click of a lock. Here we go… time to add the Quaffle.

We worked nonstop until we were exhausted from practicing for so long, sore from falling and tender from being conked on the head more times than I can count. After hours of flying and becoming "one brilliant mind", we were happy to see the sun and downright giddy to be on solid ground.

We walked into dinner laughing uproariously and pretending we were still blindfolded.

"Stop teasing. It was a great plan and it worked." Abraxas whined. I laugh. He really is quite a good captain. I was surprised at first to see how creative his practices were and how serious he was about the team. He'd been captain for less than a month and already he was making changes that would take the team above and beyond.

"We never said it wasn't Abe. Different, but a great idea never-the-less." I assure him.

"It'll all pay off at the first game. I may even have the whole team do the same thing. We'll all be one the exact same wavelength! Yes! That's perfect. On Sunday we'll do our regular Sunday practice wearing blindfolds. I'm brilliant!" We all laugh and sit down, piling food onto our places. We greeted the rest of the team (they had finished hours ago) and were nearly done.

"How was practice?" Cassie strikes up conversation. I turn to her and raise an eyebrow. Even though I've only known her for two weeks, I can already tell when she's lying or trying to cover something up. Add the fact that she's not looking at the four of us who just came in and it's obvious something is up.

"What's the deal Cas?" I question. There is silence. I turn to the rest of the team and see that they are avoiding my gaze. Terry is even whistling, trying to act innocent.

"Terrence Zabini what have you done? I demand an honest answer!" No answer. What could he have possibly done that was so bad he had to resort to whistling?

"Terry -" I warn. He looks at me quickly before returning his gaze to his plate.

"I may or may not have gotten into a small fight with the Gryffindor team and they may or may not have challenged us to a friendly math next Saturday… and I may or may not have said ok." He said this all very quickly, wincing at the end as if expecting to be yelled at.

Shocked, I turn to Abraxas, trying to gage his reaction. He is silent. I can tell he is mentally calculating the consequences and how much practice time will have to be squeezed into the next week if we're to go through with this. And we would go through with this of course, because Slytherins simply could not refuse a challenge presented by the Gryffindors. We had to take them all and win them all. It was in our nature and of course, we had to prove Slytherin's pure awesome-ness.

"Terry, Kendall, I'd suggest an early bedtime. I want to see you both on the pitch at three in the morning. Nott, you and the chasers are called for Friday. They'll try to score on you and you'll defend until not a single one goes in. We'll have an extra practice Saturday night in the Room of Requirement for the whole team. Sunday's practice will be the same. Monday practice will be cancelled – that can be a whole team work out. Wednesday we'll run drills until they're perfect. Thursday we'll call in some reserve kids and scrimmage. Ginny, you mentioned that you once played seeker right?" I nod. "Can you practice with me tomorrow after classes?" I nod again.

"Tell the Gryffindors it's on and spread the word. Friendly match my arse!" We all cheer and Terry and Kendall rush out to finish last minute homework and go to bed. Knowing how much work I have for my advanced classes, I finish eating quickly and excuse myself as well. The rest of the team finished eating and began moving up and down the table, spreading the news and sending younger kids to tell the other students.

* * *

Up in my room I worked on my Advanced Potions project, unwisely avoiding completing my History of Magic reading. I wasn't even close to finished when I fell asleep, my body screaming for a break after the six hour practice earlier.

_I hate arithmancy. Why in Merlin's name did I switch into advanced arithmancy? I'm terrible at arithmancy!_

"_If you hate it so much Ginerva, you should really just switch out. I'm sure Headmaster Dippet will let you – I think he fears you." I looked up to glare at Tom as he spoke. I hate when he reads my thoughts. _

"_I thought eye contact was needed for legimency." I bite. _

"_It is. That's to say, it is until I find a way around it." Tom replies, smirking at me from his position on the couch. "You were stabbing holes through your homework and muttering about "stupid arithmancy". I took a guess." And I hate when he acts all cocky and smirks like that. It drives me crazy! I can never decide whether to smack him or kiss him! Tom smiles, "I love you too Ginny."_

I opened my eyes blearily and checked the time - 11:45pm. Groaning, I shoved my work off my bed and fell back to sleep.

_I stood in a room full of people in Death Eater regalia. I had a feeling none of them could see me, because despite the way I drastically stood out (I was wearing my Slytherin nightgown for some reason) I was completely ignored._

"_Tom, we've been looking for her for years. I think it's time to give up." I recognized that voice. That was Abraxas Malfoy. What the hell? _

"_I WILL NOT GIVE UP!" The man in the center of the room thundered and the walls shook. A few of the Death Eaters stepped back but Abraxas (his hood had fallen and long blonde hair fell down to his shoulders) stepped forward. _

"_Please Tom; you have to listen to reason. She's gone." I couldn't figure out what was going on. Why was Abraxas addressing Lord Voldemort by his childhood name? Voldemort turned and I stifled a gasp. This man was not the Lord Voldemort I knew, but Tom Riddle still. He was but a few years older. His eyes held deep sorrow and his nose looked to have been broken a few times. I tried not to laugh at the similarity between his nose and Dumbledore's. _

"_She is not gone," Tom hissed, "and I will not cease looking for her until I find her."_

"_If she doesn't want to be found, not even you will be able to find her." Abraxas reasoned. _

"_I've said this before and I'll say it again. I will not rest until I see my one true love again. I don't care if she doesn't want to be found. I must find her and I will search every crease and crevice of this earth until I do so." Tom pledged. A few murmurs rose through the group. Near me, a familiar figure shook his head in disagreement and sorrow._

"_You'll have to tear the world apart!" Abraxas shouted. Tom's anger flared up. _

"_Then I'll do so!" he screamed. The chair behind him exploded and the dark curtains hanging around the room caught fire. "You know what is to be done." He continued once his anger was in check and the room was sorted out again. _

"_Where will you go this time?" Abraxas asked, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. "You quit your job – you have no money." Tom nodded; this all made sense; he knew this already. _

"_I shall go to Albania. I've wanted to go there for some time. Perhaps she remembered and is hiding there." Tom answered, moving to exit the small chamber."I do not know how long I'll be away."_

_He exited the room and the other young men took to cleaning up and preparing for whatever it was had to be done. They seemed well aware of their duties and seemed used to this routine. _

"_How are you Tristan?" Abraxas made his way over toward where I was standing and addressed the man next to me – the one who had been shaking his head. _

"_We all miss her. Doesn't he realize that?" Tristan Zabini responded. Abraxas clapped him on the shoulder and nodded sympathetically. "I can't believe she would just leave like that but it's been years!"_

"_He's consumed by his love for her. His whole life he lived not believing in love and then there she was – lighting up his life like a lightning bolt. Now he can't get her out of his mind. The lightning bolt disappeared and he doesn't know how to handle it. He doesn't know what to do with himself now that she's gone." Abraxas said solemnly. Tristan snorted. _

"_Don't tell me you've been reading Virginia's romance novels again?" Abraxas shook his head. _

"_Not this time mate. That one I got from Cassie." Tristan attempted a half hearted smile and shook his head again. _

_Standing where I was, I kept asking myself who was the girl they were all talking about? Obviously, if this is the future, Tom Riddle would start a war and become Voldemort all because of this girl – because of his mad obsession with finding her. Surely that wasn't good. Maybe that's why I was here – to stop this girl from stealing Tom's heart._

_I wandered away, through the mansion-like house, thinking these thoughts to myself over and over and over again. _

As always though, my dreams were forgotten as soon as they ended. The next morning, I awoke knowing I had dreamt something important, however as always, I couldn't remember a thing.

* * *

**A/N** - Thank you for putting up with me. Let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N --** As promised, Chapter 10.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

News spreads fast at Hogwarts. So fast, that by the next afternoon Gryffindor and Slytherin were going at each other; jeering and shouting and promising injuries. Students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began choosing sides and Abraxas enlisted Tristan and I to help ward the Quidditch pitch during our practices because we kept being interrupted and spied on. All of Saturday was spent at the pitch (and I mean _ALL _of Saturday), meaning Tristan and I didn't get to go to Hogsmeade. We didn't care though, as long as we beat Gryffindor.

Dippet caved and allowed us to put up posters (Abraxas had to collaborate with the Gryffindor captain to make them and Dippet had to approve them), and the game was going to be refereed by Mr. Wood, the flying instructor and usual referee. Abraxas had us working our arses off and I was running on next to no sleep because of the work load in my advanced classes.

Today was Friday. It had been a week of intense practicing. The whole team was now able to fly blindfolded and yesterday's scrimmage had gone amazingly. Some of our Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff allies had helped out and filled opposing positions that other Slytherins weren't good enough to play. The scrimmage ended with a score of 330 to none. This morning, Abraxas declared us ready. There would be no practice tonight. We were instead required to get a good night's sleep, even if it meant seeing the Hospital matron for some sleeping draught. The Gryffindor team was exhausted as well, perhaps more so than we were. They had used the pitch every second that we didn't, and I had caught them running a lap around the lake after receiving word of our team's heavy workout program.

And I didn't worry about flubbing and subconsciously reverting back to being a Gryffindor. I no longer questioned myself, or worried about not belonging. In the 90's, I'm a Gryffindor. Here, I'm a Slytherin. I didn't allow myself to think about anything more than that.

* * *

"Go! Go! Gryffindor! Go! Go! Gryffindor! Go! Go! Gryffin—"

"OH SHUT UP WILL YOU?!" I shout at a group of second year Gryffindors. Honestly, they don't know when to stop. I spin around and glare at the young boys. Second year boys are the worse. They're proud because they're no longer forced to be timid first years, and many of them have just begun to hit puberty, rendering them especially obnoxious. What's worse is they think that their brilliant. This particular group had followed Cassie and me all the way from our final class of the day to the library, not stopping their chant once.

"The game's tomorrow Peverell and you're going to lose." A confident boy declared.

"That's bloody great small-fry" I retort. I hate second year boys. I really truly do. "I've got a crap load of work to do so would you please leave me alone?"

"I have to make sure you know that you're going to lose." He tells me. Cassie snorts. Right, of course, because this little kid's chant can convince me that I'm a loser. I may as well turn in my broomstick now, because a 12-year-old, who has probably never played a game of Quidditch in his life, says I can't possibly win. Oh sigh, woe-is-me and all that jazz.

"Look around, you impertinent arse! Not a single upperclassman has taunted or jeered at each other in respect to the upcoming game for days! I'm sure it will start back up tomorrow morning before the game, but until then, we've all got better things to think about! It's a friendly match! As in… IT DOESN'T BLOODY COUNT FOR SHIT!!!!!" I holler at the young Gryffindor. Terrified, the kid turns and runs away, his friends following him.

"Merlin Ginny… you're rather horrible when you've not gotten any sleep." Cassie remarks. I growl (yes, growl).

"It's all Abe's fault. I refuse to fail my advanced classes and I have to practice for Quidditch. Healer Lupin has threatened to cut me off from pepper-up potions. He says I'll get addicted. "

"You're constantly working Ginny. It can't be healthy."

It's true that the upperclassmen have barely spoken to each other. It's only mid-September, but everyone 5th year and up has been up to their chins in work. 6th years are starting apparition training on Monday, so the teachers are giving more work because they'll soon be losing class time. The 5th years have at least two huge essays a month to prepare them for OWLS and 7th years are writing an essay a week for their NEWTS. Being in advanced classes, I'm somewhere in between. I've taken to reading my History of Magic book at the dinner table. Tristan offered me the heads common room, because they have a kitchenette, but I only use it during lunches because I don't like missing out on dinner with my friends (even if I don't pay much attention to them).

"Maybe you should drop some of your advanced classes." Cassie suggests. I shake my head.

"I've already talked to Dippet about doing just that. He won't let me; says I've gotten too much special treatment as it is." I glower at the floor. Dippet doesn't like me. I'm not quite sure why—he doesn't like a lot of people, so I guess it could just be that, but I feel like it's something else.

"What about just dropping advanced arithmancy? You don't even like that class." I shake my head again. I didn't ask about specific classes when I spoke to the headmaster but I had a feeling he would still say no. I tell Cassie this. "It's worth a shot though, right?" I think about it. What's the risk? Dippet could decide to hate me forever, but Cassie was right; I had a solid argument and if it meant dropping the class, I would definitely face Dippet and risk his hating me.

"I'll talk to him tonight." I tell her. Now though, I have research to do for a Defense essay.

* * *

"No." Dippet states firmly. I sigh in frustration.

"Professor, I really think that it would be wise for me to drop advanced arithmancy. I'll continue taking all of my other classes—"

"No. Ms. Peverell I have told you before, you will not receive any more special treatment."

"Sir, I'm the only one in the entire school taking all advanced classes _and_ playing on a Quidditch team—" But the headmaster refuses to hear my argument.

"My answer is no Ms. Peverell."

"Sir, I'm failing the class. My grade right now is a T. According to policy, if a student in an advanced class is unable to perform above a P, they are allowed to switch out of it." I tell him. It's the only class I have lower than an E in, and no matter what I do, I just can't get a hold on the concepts.

"It was your choice to take advanced level courses. Perhaps doing your assignments for once may be a solution."He says. What the bloody hell have I done to make this man hate me so much?

"I do my assignments. I'm just horrible at arithmancy." I say, my voice rising.

"Then why are you taking the class?" He counters. I exhale sharply, trying to control my anger.

"Because you're not letting me drop it." He looks up at me for the first time as if realizing his own stupidity. I raise an eyebrow, hoping he'll give in. He doesn't. Instead he picks up a piece of parchment, writes a note on it, and sends it off with a school owl. I watch him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

"I'm assigning you a tutor. You will receive no special treatment from me." I scream in frustration and glare at the Headmaster.

"You'll regret this." I threaten. It's an empty threat; I have no idea how I could make him regret it.

"Detention on Monday night Ms. Peverell; I will not tolerate disrespect from you."

"I have practice on Monday nights." I reply tersely.

"You'll have to miss it then." I glower.

"I suppose I will." My anger at the headmaster radiates from my body. I am tense all over and can't wait to get to the Room of Requirement, already knowing what my daily workout is going to be.

"You are dismissed." Still glaring, I spin on my heel and storm out of the room. As I'm exiting the entrance chamber, I pass Tom Riddle. I glare at him as well, because the world is an unfair, angry place. He looks back at me with an unreadable expression, which I ignore and try my hardest to slam the door behind me. Dinner starts in an hour. I have an hour to create a Dippet look alike and punch the shit out of it.

* * *

"Gin-bug, are you alright?" Tristan asks. Gin-bug has become his pet name for me, I guess. I sigh and look up at him. I've been glaring at my salad for ten minutes, but when I see the concern on Tristan's face I can't help but smile weakly. I shrug and cross my arms on the table, letting my head fall on top of them.

"Dippet didn't let her drop advanced arithmancy. He assigned her a tutor instead and she got pissed. She told him he'd regret it and now she has detention on Monday night."

"He knows we practice on Monday nights!" I exclaim, sitting straight up and glaring at the heads table. "He hates me and I don't get it!" Up at the heads table, the headmaster turns and sees me staring. He gives me a look that clearly shows he thinks he's ten times better than me.

Tristan tries to help. "Maybe he thinks you're trying to drop the class because you're lazy, or because you just don't like it?" I glare at him. Isn't he supposed to be on my side?

"I'm failing the class Tristan. I do every bit of homework and always pay attention, but I get a Poor or lower on every single test." I explain to him. He pauses while he tries to think of an answer to that.

"Maybe he…. I don't know." I roll my eyes.

"Maybe he just hates me." I say. Turning back to my dinner I decide I'm not really hungry anymore. Instead, I'm just tired. I conjure a little to-go box and put my salad into it. Knowing that my water bottle is still in my room, I excuse myself and head back to the dormitories.

While I walk, I think about the past three weeks. I barely ever think about my friends and family back home. Is that a bad thing? Should I be thinking about them more? I begin to think about everyone I left behind. I think about my parents, and how worried they must be. Maybe McGonagall has told them where I am. She probably hasn't. Maybe there have been a lot of attacks going on and they're so caught up in the war that they haven't realized I'm gone yet. Does time move faster in the past? Or do we move at the same pace? Have I been gone for three weeks? Or has it only been a week or two? When I finally get back, will the war be over? I can't bear to think that I'll miss the final battle, whenever it may be. I need to be there when it happens. If I'm not and if we lose… I stop those thoughts in their tracks. What if you don't get back in time and you don't get to see anyone ever again?

"No." I tell myself resolutely. I refuse to think about that.

Instead, I think about my friends. I think about Luna, captured and trapped somewhere. I wonder if she's being tortured. They'll want information. But what would she know? Even if she did have some information, she wouldn't tell them. Knowing Luna, she'll say some gibberish about nargles or crumple-headed snorkacks and leave the Death Eaters to figure out what she meant. I tear up thinking about her. Merlin I miss my friends.

I think about the reason I came here in the first place. Some of my best friends had abandoned me: my brother, the girl who is like a sister to me, and the boy whom I loved with all of my heart. What were Harry, Ron and Hermione doing right now? I know whatever it is, is extremely important but I still hated them for it. Harry… I suddenly feel terribly guilty for accepting to date Tristan. We ate lunch together yesterday afternoon; he set up a picnic outside and we had walked around the lake for a while. At the time, I had been incredibly happy. Now I felt dirty. Was I cheating on Harry? _No_, my mind answered angrily_, Harry broke up with you, remember? Do whatever you want. _

My conscious was right. Harry had dumped me. He had good intentions (he thought that if Voldemort found out about our relationship that I would be targeted), but it still really sucked. _"If we win this war,"_ he had told me, "_I'm going to marry you on the spot. I love you like I never thought I could love anyone, Ginny, and if you'll let me, I'd want to stay with you forever." _Suddenly I feel as though someone had stabbed me in the chest. I can't breathe. Tears spill out of my eyes and I fall to the floor. Harry….

I could barely stand it anymore. His proposal from the beginning of the summer played on repeat in my mind. I don't think he told anyone about it. He had offered to buy me a ring, but I had refused. I'd end up stashing it in a drawer somewhere and refusing to look at it while he was gone. It would be too painful. Now I wish I had let him buy me the ring, because at least that way I'd have something to hold on to, to remember him by if I never saw him again.

Still crouched on the ground, I roll back onto my bottom and curl into a ball. My books drop to the floor and I wrap my arms around myself, wincing at the internal pain. I remember the last time this had happened, after Bill's wedding… after they left. Fred and George had found me in my room, in the exact position I'm in now. I didn't want to see them. They had left me as well. Everybody was leaving me. When I refused to talk to them and wouldn't stop crying, they got Bill. Bill had always been my favorite brother. I know that sounds horrible but it's true. He was always there for me no matter what. Even on that day, on his wedding day, Bill came to my room and scooped me up like a young child. He apparated with me to Shell Cottage and held me until I fell asleep. He didn't have to ask what was wrong. He knew. And he promised me that the next time he saw Harry, he'd punch him hard. I didn't believe him then and I still don't, but it made me feel better anyways.

Now I just want to see my family again. I would give almost anything to return to that day, if it meant seeing the ones I loved again. I would anything to be with Harry again, because he was the only one in the universe capable of filling the hole that was my heart. "_I love you like I never thought I could love anyone."_ I cry out, unable to bear the pain. My heart is being split in two. I can't breathe. I'm panting, gasping for breath. The tears roll down my face like rain on a window.

"Ginny?" Someone is nearby. I tried to call out to them, but I couldn't form words. "Ginny!"

Footsteps rush toward me; there are a lot of people now. Voices call out to me, asking what's wrong. I hear a girl scream for help. I try my hardest to control my breathing but I only succeed in feeling light-headed. I feel hands on my face, wiping away the tears. Someone was holding me. Where is Bill? I need my brother, Bill. Strong arms pick me up and start to carry me away. I lean into the strong chest and can feel myself shaking. I want to wipe away the tears on my face, but I can't make my arms move and I keep crying anyways so what's the point? I want my brother. I want my family. I want Harry.

"It's alright Gin-bug. Abraxas has gone for help. It's alright. You're going to be okay.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N** - The intensity continues. It's going to be pretty intense for maybe one more chapter. If you haven't just read 10, I'd advise maybe going back and re-reading chapter 10 before reading this chapter, because you need the intensity of chapter 10 to fully _get_ this chapter.

enjoy.

New A/N --- just to clear things up, this chapter is comprised entirely of nightmares. They aren't necessarily cannon with both each other and the actual plot of this story. Just nightmares, dredged up from Ginny's subconscious, that will give her something to think about when she wakes up.

* * *

_Sunlight. No, that couldn't be right. There was no sunlight in the dungeons. _

_Blinking sleepily, I sat up and tried to recognize my surroundings. Comfortable bed, maroon drapes on the windows, posters of the Weird Sisters, Puddlemore United and Victor Krum on the walls. I look down—golden bedding. It couldn't be…._

"_Ginny! You're awake!" My head snapped up to find the girl speaking to me. "I guess you're feeling better now huh?" _

_Unable to respond to my former (er… present) roommate, I simply nod. _

"_Good, because I know how much you wanted to be at the final battle." Lauren Philips explained excitedly. If I'm really back in my own time, and if the final battle really was about to start, then Harry would be fighting Voldemort soon. He's going to need me! We all have to help! But if I really had gone back in time, then shouldn't Voldemort be non-existent by now? Either way, I have to be there!_

_I jumped out of bed and immediately regretted it when the wave of nausea hit me. As soon as it was gone though, I was on the move. I scrambled to find clothes, at first forgetting where I keep clothes in this time period and then forgetting that that girls don't go around in dresses or dress suits and heels all the time here. _

_Finally I made it downstairs. I was sprinting; Laura was having trouble keeping up. Bursting into the Great Hall, my mouth dropped open. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The tables were set out; my classmates were talking and eating as if nothing was wrong. The teachers too, sat up front, ignoring the scene below them. Finally I let my eyes come to a stop on them, feeling horrified. They stood where the first years usually stand to get sorted; Harry, with his raven hair flying in all directions, his glasses askew and his emerald eyes blazing; and Tom, his usually slick dark hair now unkempt, blue eyes determined, struggling to remain standing. _

_I turned to Laura, about to ask why nobody was doing anything, but she wasn't there anymore. _

"_Harry!" I call. But there is no answer—he doesn't even acknowledge me. _

"_Tom!" I try, but he doesn't respond either. _

_A green light passes inches from Harry's ear and a spell I recognize as Sectumsemptra flies by Tom. Eyes wide, I run to my fellow Gryffindors, calling out to them to pay attention, to help, but they do nothing. It's as if they can't hear me; can't see me. I run to the Slytherins; the Ravenclaws; the Hufflepuffs and get nothing. I don't get a reaction from anybody. Even the teachers can't seem to hear my desperate pleas. Panicking, I reach for my wand. _

"_No!" I scream, when it's not there. I try to call out to Harry again. Nobody can hear me. _

_Don't cry. I tell myself. Don't cry._

_Harry Potter, my crush of too-many-years-to-count, boyfriend for definitely not long enough, and love of my life, was fighting to the death right in front of me. Fighting, but not with Lord Voldemort. No. Standing before me were two seventeen year old boys—Harry Potter and Tom Riddle. _

_It pained me to watch. _

_It was clear that neither would stop until the other was lying dead on the floor. Tom pauses to catch his breath. I freeze. No…. _

_Tom straightens up and points his wand at Harry. Panting, Harry aims his wand at Tom._

_Two pairs of lips mouth those two dreadful words. _

_Two jets of green light fly across the room. _

_Two boys fall to the floor, and still, nobody in the room moves. _

_Only one body stirs, sitting up and then smirking in triumph. He laughs a cold, malicious, grateful laugh. _

_The boy turns to me and smiles, but all I can see is the body lying dead behind him. Taking in his pale features and the dead look in his eyes, I drop to the ground and let out a strangled cry. Strong arms encircle my body, pulling me to my feet. Strong, tan Quidditch toned arms; the wrong arms. _

"_No!" I scream, wrenching my body away from the boy holding me. I fall to the ground and crawl toward the body on the floor, gathering his limp body in my arms and hugging him close. _

_All around me, people begin to stir. As if noticing the scene for the first time, mummers rose throughout the hall and teachers began to rise anxiously. _

_Harry moved closer to me but I pushed him away. A single tear escapes, breaking the barrier that holds back the sobs. Cheers erupt suddenly from all but the Slytherin table. At the heads table, McGonagall nods. _

"_Well done, Ginerva." She says. Only I can hear her._

_Harry laughs gleefully. _

"_Ginerva…" I gasp and look down. "Gin…" No! It couldn't be! He was dead; I had seen the green light hit him. There was no way in Merlin's name he could have survived that curse. And yet…._

"_Tom!"I shake him lightly. _

"_Tom!!!" I shake him harder this time, silently begging him to respond. There is no response from the body in my arms. No movement, no breath, no pulse, nothing. _

"_TOM!!!!!" _

* * *

"_Is it true?" Tom demands eyes flashing wildly from me, to Harry, and back to me. _

"_Tom, please?" I beg him to calm down, to give me a minute to pull myself together. How can I explain so that he understands? How can I possibly explain in a way that won't hurt him even more?_

"_Is it true?!" he shouts. "Answer me Ginny!" I sigh. A tear slips down my cheek. _

"_Of course it's true. You said so yourself; the evidence is clear as day." _

"_This is your child then? You have a family… with him?" _

"_Yes." I want to be sorry, for his sake, but I'm not. I don't regret what I've done. I don't regret the choices I made. I watch as Tom's expression contorts, changing from anger, to disbelief, to acceptance, and finally, to sorrow. "Tom?" He doesn't acknowledge that I am speaking to him. He steps back, looking so pained I begin to worry. _

"_Why?" He whispers. I can barely stand to see him so upset, so hurt, and because of me, because of choices I have made. _

"_I love him." I explain. I say it so softly, as if explaining it to my four-year-old son James. _

"_What about me?" He asks, his voice cracking when he says "me." _

"_I still do. I love both of you, just in different ways." It never occurred to me how hurt Tom would be by my actions. Tom backed away slowly, moving toward the door. I hated that he was so hurt he couldn't even stay in the same room as me. _

"_I'm so sorry, Tom." I say. He turns his back to me and leaves the room. I rush to the doorway._

"_Tom?" I call. There is no answer. Suddenly, I feel a familiar presence beside me. Harry wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my cheek. _

"_Let him go, Gin. Just let him go." I nod and relax into the arms of my husband. The last tear falls down my cheek. _

* * *

_I wake suddenly, at first not knowing why. Then I hear him._

_Getting up out of bed, I slip on my slippers and hurry to the nursery next to the master bedroom. I open the door all the way and jog to the crib on the far wall. My little baby boy is standing up, his small fists clutching the side of the crib. _

"_Hi sweetie," I say, hoisting him up out of the crib, "why are you awake?" He gurgles and smiles up at me, his blue eyes sparkling happily. _

"_Mamma," He says. I beam. I love it when he calls me mamma. _

"_It's really adorable the way he calls you 'mamma'."I spin around. My little boy squeals excitedly and reaches out to the man standing in the doorway. _

"_Daddy!!" Tom walks into the room and takes his son from me. _

"_Hey little one—what are you doing awake?" Our son Alex simply gurgles and squeals again. Tom and I laugh. Suddenly Tom freezes. I watch, confused, as he runs to the window that looks out over the front yard. When he re-enters the nursery, I can tell that something is extremely wrong._

"_Stay here." Tom orders me. I can sense the fear in his tone. He places our son carefully back into my arms and kisses me. There is finality and urgency in the kiss and it scares me. "I love you."_

_I can't respond because he has gone. I hear him moving quickly down the stairs. _

"_Who are you and what are you doing here?" I hear Tom ask roughly. Alex is playing with my hair, sticking it in my mouth and prodding me in the eye. He has no idea that something is wrong. _

"_I can't let you live Tom. I will not allow you become the monster you surely will become." I recognize that voice. _

"_Alex!" I say, trying desperately to sound excited, "Let's play peek-a-boo, okay? Ready?" Always eager for a game to play, my son quickly clasps his hands over his eyes. _

"_Peek-a-boo!" He and I shout at the same time. Giggling, he covers his eyes again and waits longer. _

"_Oh my, where has my Alex gone? I can't see him?"_

"_No! Please, I have a family! Please, I'm unarmed!" Tom shouts from below. My heart is racing. No, please no. _

"_Peek-a-boo!" We shout. Alex squeals in delight. _

"_Again!" I exclaim. _

"_Where's mommy?" Alex mocks. I cover his hands lightly, knowing that he often forgets to uncover his eyes after the 2__nd__ round of peek-a-boo. _

"_Avada Kedavra." No!_

"_PEEK-A-BOO!" __We both shout loudly. Alex forgets as predicted and my hands remain where they are. Green light flashes through the house. I let go of Alex's hands and he looks up at me. _

"_Mamma okay?" He asks. I take a shaky breath. There are footsteps on the stairs. Alex hears them as well. "Dadda?" he turns to watch the doorway, to see if his father is coming back. I turn to put Alex into his crib. _

"_No mamma! Not tired!" He protests, but I stick him inside anyways. _

"_Alex sweetie, I need you to pretend to be asleep. Don't open your eyes." This game is a favorite of mine. It helps the young boy fall asleep, even when he doesn't want to. Unfortunately, I know, he's not going to fall asleep this time. _

"_Sweet dreams, sweetie." I say. I'll leave him in here. There is no time for me to get my wand – I'll have to meet him on the top landing. _

"_Ginny?" Too late. I spin around. Harry Potter, my friend and love for countless years, stands in the doorway, mouth agape. _

"_What have you done?" I accuse him, glaring fiercely, though I'm crying so I doubt my glare has the intended effect. _

"_What have _I _done? You're Voldemort's wife? You're the mother of his child?"_

"_Don't you dare bring my son into this!" I shout, panic rising in my throat. Harry couldn't… he wouldn't dare… would he?_

"_I've been sent here to kill all of you." He states matter-of-factly. "But I'll spare you if you just step aside." This is ridiculous. I don't understand how he could go through with this! It's the death of his parents all over again, I realize. _

"_You've become a monster!" I whisper, but I step aside, revealing the "sleeping" baby in the crib. Harry smiles, but it's not really a smile at all. It's more of a grimace. _

"_You'd save yourself over your child?" he questions._

"_I'm not your mother." I reply coldly. He blanches. _

"_Voldemort would have killed my mother anyways."_

"_You're an idiot, Harry Potter. Tom wouldn't have become Lord Voldemort." _

"_No, but his son might." I knew exactly what I was doing. Not for a minute had I ever considered saving myself over my son. No. I had a plan. I would not let Harry kill my son, not when he had already killed my husband. _

_Harry aimed his want at my baby. My plan went into action. I waited for the exact moment._

"_Mommy loves you Alex!" I shout. Alex "wakes up" and looks at me in fear. _

"_Mamma?!" he screams, finally understanding. His blue eyes latch onto me, pleading._

_"Avada Kedavra."_

"_I love you!" _

_Harry realizes his mistake too late. "Ginny! What? No!"_

* * *

_I knew then what would happen. Tom had given up. I could see it in his eyes. Tom had taken over and banished Lord Voldemort from his body and mind._

_His eyes had only left Harry once and now as they aimed their wands at each other, his eyes continued to focus on his opponent. _

_A part of me wants to call out to him – to force him to put up a real fight. But most of me knew and had accepted that our time together was over. I was no longer Ginny Peverell—Sassy Slytherin, ace student, crazy good Quidditch player and girlfriend of Tom Riddle. I was Ginny Weasley—Proud Gryffindor, pretty good student, great Quidditch player, and secret fiancé of Harry Potter. I had to let Tom go. He wanted to let go. I had to let him. _

_The two men raise their wands. One shouts his signature spell_—Expelliarmus. _The other calls out the killing curse. Nobody in the room makes any noise. Nobody in the room realizes how weak the latter spell was. Nobody in the room sees the transformation in the man in the middle of the room. _

_The spells connect in the middle. Tom finally tears his eyes from Harry and stares straight at me._

Ginerva? _He_ _asks mentally. __ I meet his eyes. They're deep blue again and I smile seeing them._ Please don't name him Tom. _I smile and nod. Of course not._

_The connection broke between their two spells and the whole room gasped. A huge burst of noise filled the Great Hall, but I could only hear one thought, shouted silently by a man about to die. _

"_I love you."_


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N** - Hopefully this chapter should clear up some of the confusion brought on by the last chapter. Just in case though -- Chapter 11 consisted of 4 completely unconnected, unrealistic nightmares that Ginny has while asleep. She falls asleep after having broken down (end of chapter 10). If you still have questions after reading this chapter, let me know.

**Disclaimer: **If this were mine, I would not be sitting at home mentally hitting myself for writing fanfictions when I should be working on my homework.

Enjoy!

* * *

You know that weird state of being where you're half awake and half asleep? You know you're not asleep anymore, but you can't quite get a grasp on your present reality? Life is a bit foggy? Yeah… that's where I am. I blink my eyes a few times, and rub my eyes, trying to get a clear focus. My mind starts to work again and I sit up.

First thought – where the hell am I? The room I'm in is definitely not the 6th year Slytherin girl's dormitory.

Then I remember what happened. I was walking back from the Great Hall and thinking. Harry… I was thinking about Harry. Then I broke down. How embarrassing! How infuriating! I can't believe I broke down again! And in front of half the school probably, as well…. I bury my face in my hands. This is why thinking is dangerous.

I look around again. I'm sitting in a really nice bed—a four poster bed, like all the Hogwarts beds, but this one is bigger. It's a bit nicer too, and more comfortable. The room is definitely male, I decide. The furnishings are not feminine in the least and there is no sign that a girl lives in this room (no makeup, no shoes lying around, and only one small mirror over the dresser). So now the question is, whose room am I in?

There was only one bed; it wasn't a dormitory. Which meant it was either a prefect or…

Tristan's. It has to be Tristan's.

_It's alright Gin-bug. Abraxas has gone for help. It's alright. You're going to be okay._

Tristan had been the one to carry me away. We had been so close to the Slytherin common rooms though—they were only just down the hallway! So why I was in the Head's dormitory, I had no idea. Why had he taken me all the way up here, instead of to the Slytherin common rooms?

"Knock, knock?" I looked up and to my immense surprise… McGonagall was standing in the doorway. "Can I come in?" she asks, gesturing to the room I'm currently seated in the middle of.

"Of course," I say, surprised that's she's even talking to me. The head girl (and my future professor) hadn't spoken to me ever since I stood her up on that first night back. She hadn't even given me the chance to apologize! McGonagall goes to sit down on the bed, but hesitates, and then remains standing. I start to open my mouth, intending to apologize for my rude forgetfulness three weeks ago, but she beats me to it.

"I need to apologize to you Ginny." What? Why does she need to apologize to me? I was the one who stood her up!

"I judged you from the start and when you stood me up, I jumped to horrible conclusions. I didn't even think to consider that you were probably exhausted that night and simply forgot. Of course," She goes on, "when I thought about that a few days later, I had already categorized you in my mind and wasn't willing to thoroughly consider it. These past few weeks must have been so hard on you. I was supposed to help you adjust, and instead I was shirking my responsibilities and resorting back to old prejudices. I'm very sorry, Ginny." Wow. I can't even…. Wow. I tried to say something in response, but all that came out was a few "ums" and a sound quite like one a duck would make. Or maybe a squid or something. Either way, it wasn't pleasant; my throat was awfully dry.

"Where's Tristan?" I finally manage. McGonagall's face falls a bit, but it's hardly noticeable, because she's plastered the fakest smile onto her face you'd think it was drawn by a cartoonist.

"He's been such a good friend to you Ginny—I think he really likes you." She says, as if that explains everything. I raise an eyebrow and motion for her to sit down. She does and with a bit more prompting on my part, begins to explain everything to me.

"Tristan brought you up here last night after dinner. You passed out; Healer Lupin said you were just exhausted, and probably overwhelmed. Tristan slept on the couch, letting you have his bed--" She makes a sweeping motion with her arm, explaining wordlessly that I am sitting in Tristan's bed. As much as I fight it, I can't help but blush. "He stayed with you practically the whole night. It was terrible! You were screaming something awful, and kept shouting out for Tom and Harry. We both tried to wake you a few times – Abraxas Malfoy was in here and suggested dousing you with water or using a spell, but you wouldn't wake. The Slytherin Quidditch team came in early this morning—they needed to know if you'd be fit for the match today--"

"Bollocks!" I exclaim, causing McGonagall to gasp. I had completely forgotten about the match today! Did I feel up for playing? Of course I did! We had to beat Gryffindor! The whole week's worth of training would be useless if there wasn't a game! "What did they decide?"

McGonagall, still shocked at my foul outburst, seemed reluctant to answer. "Tristan and Malfoy decided that they would check on you after breakfast. If you were awake and up for it, the game would still be played."

"I'm awake! I'm up for it!" I assure her. She doesn't seem to care. "McGonagall? Minerva?" She looks at me oddly.

"Yes?"

"I'm really sorry. For everything, I mean." I say solemnly. She doesn't exactly seem to trust me but there isn't much I can do about that.

"It's all right." She smiles at me, a small, hopeful smile. She's really not that bad… Professor McGonagall had said that we had become really close friends. Hopefully, that was still possible.

We drift into a semi-awkward but mostly comfortable silence. I'm not going to pretend to know what McGonagall was thinking about, but she seemed awfully pensive so I didn't bother her. Instead I allowed myself to think again...

You know that instant bolt of shock when you realize, after having been awake for a little while, that you remembered your dreams for once?

I never remember my dreams. In fact, half the time, I purposefully forget them, just so that they won't bother me. But this time, the dreams I had came flooding back to me like a tidal wave, and I couldn't stop them. Flashes of the dreams flew across my mind. Scenes that had been drawn up by my subconscious in the middle of the night resurfaced in one powerful swoop. It happened so quickly my head spun, and I fell back in agony, remembering how terrible my dreams were. No wonder I had been screaming all night—these weren't dreams. They were nightmares.

"Ginny, are you alright?" McGonagall asks me, leaning toward me to press a hand against my forehead.

"Fine." I mutter.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." But was I okay? Physically, yes, I am probably fine. I am still pretty tired, but what teenager isn't always tired? Mentally though, I'm a wreck.

McGonagall and I hear the portrait hole open at the same time and we both turn to watch the doorway, waiting for Tristan to walk in. It's not just Tristan though, who has come to check on me. It's the whole bloody Slytherin Quidditch team, and some of my roommates. (By some, I mean Cassie.)

"Ginny! Are you okay? You scared us all so much!" Cassie shouts, flinging herself at me and enveloping me in a massive bear-hug.

"I'm fine!" I choke out, struggling under her surprisingly tight hold. "Cassie, let up—I can't breathe!" She giggles and stands up. Behind her, the team is smiling.

"Ginny, are you up for playing in the match?" Abraxas asks, nervously stepping forward. I don't like the look on his face, or the way he's approaching me. It's as if he thinks I'm going to pass out again, or start screaming.

"Definitely!" I exclaim, sitting up in the bed and nodding enthusiastically. I wouldn't miss this game for anything! I clamber out of the bed and smile at the team. They all chuckle.

"We'll meet you down on the pitch then." Abraxas announces happily. He turns and herds four boys out the door. McGonagall sneaks out with them and Abraxas follows behind. Only once he's gone do I realize that Tristan is in the room, and that he hasn't said anything this whole time. In fact, once everyone is gone, he moves over to his desk and sits down on it. Confused I walk over to him and try to get his attention.

"Tristan? Are you okay? What's wrong?" He looks up at me, evidence of concern and pain in every part of his expression.

"Are you really alright Ginny?" He asks, his voice extremely quiet and somber. I reach out to touch his face, but he pulls away. "Because you didn't sound alright last night. We found you crumpled on the floor in the hallway; you were sobbing, and you weren't responding to any of us. We were really worried about you." This makes me feel terrible. I had caused my new friends pain, and none of them deserved it. If I could just get over it—if I could move on like everybody told me to—if I could just be stronger, none of this would have happened.

"I'm so sorry, Tristan. But I'm okay now, really." He's not convinced.

"What happened, Ginny? You were fine, and then you were so far from fine we thought someone had attacked you!" Tristan shouts. This sudden outburst scares me, and I stumble backwards, onto the bed.

"I started thinking… about things I shouldn't have been thinking about." I explain slowly. "I… I thought about my life before coming here. And it wasn't pretty. I—"

"Who's Harry?" Tristan asks suddenly. I don't answer.

"Who is Harry?" he asks again, this time more forcefully. I meet his eyes for a split second and see in them so much pain I can barely stand it. I can't hurt Tristan… but he needs to know.

"Harry was my boyfriend."

"And you loved him?" he asks, not meeting my eyes. I take a deep breath before answering. Will everything be okay? Knowing my luck, I'll fuck this up somehow, but I'm hoping that I won't.

"Yes. I loved him very much. But he left me. He left me to protect me, and that hurt more than any curse any dark wizard could have hit me with." I explain, keeping my voice strong. A part of me feels like my saying this out loud will somehow convey the message to Harry. I grow angry just thinking about him again… and then confused when I remember the role he played in my nightmares from last night.

Tristan is quiet.

"You kept saying his name last night. It was pretty horrible." I nod. I'm sure it was. "It sounded like you were having nightmare after nightmare. We tried to wake you up but you were stuck in a trance, almost." I don't even want to imagine how bad it was from the outside point of view. Watching friends have a nightmare, and not being able to do anything about it was the worst experience. I couldn't count the number of times I had sat on my bed watching Hermione panic and thrash about in her sleep. I didn't want to remember the times I had lay beside Harry, holding him as he shook in terror and imagining what kind of horrors he was seeing. It was terrible. So I can't even describe how sorry I felt for the friends that had sat with me last night.

"I know. I remember what I was dreaming about, and I'm so incredibly sorry that you had to deal with that." I truly am so sorry. "But please, forget about Harry, Tristan. He is nothing to me anymore. I promise. A part of my heart will always belong to him, but he's not a part of my life anymore. I'm here now, and he's… somewhere very, very far away from here." Tristan stares at me blankly for a long time.

"Okay." He says finally.

"You believe me?" I ask, cautious.

"I believe you." I let out a huge sigh of relief. Thank god for that. I don't love Tristan, and I most definitely cannot envision spending the rest of my life with him. But I do value our relationship. Tristan is an amazing person and I couldn't stand to see him hurt.

"You kept calling out "Tom" as well." I sigh. I knew it was too good to be true.

I lower my head and recall my nightmares. I am both terrified and excited by them, but above all, I'm confused.

"You like him, don't you?" I jerk my head sharply upward to stare at Tristan as if he had just sprouted three heads.

"What?"

"Tom Riddle." He explains sadly. The sparkle in his eyes is gone. His posture is rigid as he leans against his desk.

"Tristan--" I reach out for him, but he shies away.

"Please just give me an answer Ginny." He begs. I flinch when I hear how upset he is.

"I don't know." I admit finally. And I don't know, because until this morning, I hadn't even considered it. In fact, for the past three weeks, I had been stuck between hating the future dark lord, and not caring about him until he said something to piss me off. It had never consciously occurred to me that I might actually _like_ him. And yet my subconscious had not only dreamt him up, but it had stuck him in four consecutive nightmares and contrasted him with Harry. Obviously, my subconscious knew something my conscious mind didn't. I look at Tristan. He seems to be contemplating my answer.

"Alright."

"Alright?" I repeat. What does "alright" mean?

"It's okay that you don't know. I understand."

"You do?" He does? Tristan nods.

"It's alright to not fully understand your own emotions. You're an amazing girl," Tristan tells me. I smile. He's such an amazing person. "Ginny—you understand that whatever could have happened between us is over, right?" My face falls and I let out a sad sigh.

"Yes, I know."

"I think you need to explore your feelings for Tom. You may not know it for sure, but I've seen you two interact in the Slytherin common room, at mealtimes, and in the corridors. You like him Ginny—the only question now is how much." Tristan says sadly. That sounds oddly familiar. Actually, I think I said the exact same thing to Hermione about Ron. I give Tristan a hug.

"I really do like you Tristan." I say.

"But only as a friend." He clarifies. I try to smile, but it doesn't quite work. Instead, I sort of grimace at him.

"Unfortunately, yes." Tristan jumps up and stands tall.

"But guess what?!"

"What?" I ask, surprised again by his sudden change in mood.

"We're going to go kick some Gryffindor butt, so it doesn't really matter!" I laugh. Trust a teenage boy to get over rejection with healthy, athletic competition.

"Yeah!" I cheer, finding that I too, am starting to get out of the depressing funk we had put ourselves into. Tristan bounces up and down on his feet, psyched and ready for the match.

"Come on Gin-bug!" Tristan shouts, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the bedroom.

He leads me out of the portrait hole, and down toward the Quiddith pitch, the two of us laughing merrily and shouting out how we're going to defeat Gryffindor the whole way.

Yes, I decide. This is exactly how I like us – as the best of friends!

* * *

**A/N **- so again, i hope that cleared up some of the confusion. Don't forget to review!

~onceuponawonderland


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N** - Here's chapter 13. It's a bit shorter than the previous chapters but not by too much.

I haven't had one of these in a while......

**Disclaimer:_ Not mine. In fact, I'm rather glad it's not, because I enjoy writing fanfics, living in America and being a weirdo teenage girl :)_**

Enjoy!

* * *

"Hello and welcome to this unofficial Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin!" A fourth year Hufflepuff was announcing the match. Out in the stands, the crowd cheers wildly. Inside the changing room, my teammates and I wait anxiously to start playing.

"We're ready for this. We know their weaknesses, and we've fixed our weaknesses…. hopefully." Abraxas may be a great captain, but all captains have annoying pre-game speeches. It just so happens that Abraxas was the type to reiterate everything we already knew. "We're truly a team, and we're going to win." Sensing the end of his speech, we cheer and stomp our feet. I listen once again to the announcer.

"Now remember folks – these two teams will play each other again for real when the season officially begins." I smile. This game was just as real as any season game played for house points.

This is it. I wait for the call from Abraxas.

"Line up."

A spark of panic tries to make its way to the forefront of my mind, but I push it back. I am on my feet immediately. The only person quicker than I am is Tristan, who seems to be overcompensating for his earlier disappointment by being more than exuberant. The rest of the team comes to stand with us, getting in place in order of position.

Abraxas, as the seeker, stands ready in the first line of three. He looks back at me and smiles; I bounce up and down a few times in nervous anticipation. We can't get cocky. If we start to believe that our chances of winning are really high, they won't be. We hear the announcer getting ready to call out the Gryffindor team and I let out an excited squeak. Everyone turns to stare at me and Terry mutters "This is why we don't have girls play," under his breath. Outside, the crowd goes crazy. The Hufflepuff announcer – can't remember his name - is shouting out the names of the Gryffindor players. I climb onto my broom. It's time.

The doors burst open and we're out in seconds, soaring in formation around the pitch. I'm delighted to hear that the Slytherins aren't the only ones cheering – some of the Ravenclaws and a few Hufflepuffs are cheering as well.

"And here's the Slytherin team!" the boy shouts over the crowd. "Captain Malfoy – the seeker, and the keeper, Nott, are out first. Following behind them are the chasers – Zabini, Peverell and Yaxely. Woah!"

The three of us pull an outstanding trick – flipping over each other and jumping from broom to broom – before returning to formation.

"And here are the beaters – Other Zabini and Blishwick!"

We fly into the center and touch down onto the field. Abraxas shakes hand with the Gryffindor captain and we fly up again, taking our places for the start of the match. Mister Wood is shouting the rules at us, and warning each captain that he wants a non-violent game. Not paying a bit of attention, I look across to the Gryffindor team. The youngest player, a second year beater, looks scared out of his mind. A small voice in the back of my head points out that there isn't a single girl. I smile.

"Ready to lose Peverell?" My head snaps up and I swear my heart stops beating for a second or two. '_Not Harry. Not Harry. That is not Harry.' _I tell myself, refusing to get too shaken by the mop of messy raven hair across from me.

"You should be asking yourself that, Potter!" Abraxas shouts, hovering above me. "Ginny's the best chaser I've ever seen!" I can feel myself blushing and look away from the ex-boyfriend look alike.

"And the Quaffle is released!" I dive on instinct. "Peverell takes the Quaffle… Passes to Zabini… back to Peverell… Out of nowhere to Yaxely! How did she know he was there? ... Yaxely to Peverell … She passes to Zabini… THERE'S A BLUDGER-- Stopped by his brother, other Zabini. Peverell with the Quaffle… SHE SCORES!" The crowd erupts in cheers (and boos). I whip around on my broom with the Quaffle and wink at Potter, figuring he's probably Harry's granddad.

"Peverell to Yaxely … THIS GAME IS GETTING ROUGH!"

I have to say, I'm surprised by the lack of injuries and cheating in this game. In the 90's you couldn't make it forty seconds without a rival chaser "accidently" elbowing you in the face, or a beater trying to bash the bludger into your back. If this game was in the 90's, I would have already taken a few hits from other players. In the 90's it was a lot more dangerous, and a whole lot more exciting. Not that this game wasn't exciting! A bludger whizzes by me. I roll and pelt the Quaffle downward, into the waiting arms of my fellow chaser, Tristan.

"Zabini Scores! Twenty-nothing to Slytherin!" The crowd once again goes crazy. I grab the Quaffle from Tristan and almost immediately toss it in the air and beat it over to Rod.

"Now this is interesting – if you pay close attention you'll notice that the Slytherin team isn't even talking to each other! Not that there's much talking anyway in Quidditch, but it seems they don't need it at all! Could this be the mysterious new technique Captain Malfoy has been rumored to have created? If so, I guess it's working!"

We take a few more shots on the hoops and miss. Above me, Abraxas is swooping and feinting, all while watching for the snitch and keeping an eye on the rest of the team.

* * *

"Peverell scores! That's sixty-nothing to Slytherin, and Peverell's fourth goal!" what's-his-name shouts. The Gryffindor chasers are getting really annoyed now. Potter flies in and knocks into me, causing us both to jerk a bit on our brooms. Glaring, I knock him back and he spins off toward the center of the pitch. You want to play dirty Gryffindor? I know dirty!

"The Gryffindor team is in trouble! No sign of the snitch yet and they have yet to _touch _the Quaffle. This could be – Oh! Nevermind!"

"Fuck!" I scream. Potter and one of the other chasers had surrounded me, with a beater on my tail. When Potter made his move, punching the Quaffle out of my arms, I didn't have room to catch it.

"Potter to Robbins… back to Potter… they're not taking any chances throwing across the field are they?" We had planned for this though. Roderick got on the tail of the two Gryffindor chasers. Tristan began to loop around to help him, and I leaned into my broom and urged it toward the goalposts lest they score.

"Yaxely and Zabini on their tail! Zabini and Blishwick are trying to keep that bludger between them – Sparrows and Thomas trying to knock those Slytherin chasers down with the other bludger – ooh!"

I know what has happened before the tell-tale gasp of the crowd and the words of the announcer confirm my suspicions. We've lost a chaser.

"Yaxely is down! Gryffindor chasers rushing toward the goal!"

* * *

Every single Slytherin student in this school surges into the common room, all chanting and cheering, all reveling in the win. All seven members of the Quidditch team sit on the shoulders of fellow Slytherins, smiling proudly and leading the cheers.

"Oi – Peverell!" I look down. I sixth year boy, Lawrence Bletchley, is trying to get my attention. When he sees that I'm looking, he asks, "Where'd you learn how to play Quidditch like that?"

The common room falls silent; everybody wants to hear my answer. I chuckle nervously.

"What do you mean?"

"Girls don't play Quidditch at all." He clarifies. A few people nod. "But you show up playing as if you've played your whole life."

"I have played my whole life." I answer, ignoring the comment about girls not playing Quidditch, because it's complete bull. I mean hello? Hasn't anyone here heard of the Holyhead Harpies?

A few people here and there mutter under their breath. The team is listening intently. They had never asked why I played Quidditch, or where I learned—we just practiced.

"I have six older brothers, five of whom are obsessed with the game. I learned at a young age that if you wanted to have something to do during the days, you played Quidditch. Also, with me in the game, we could play a three-on-three match." I shrug. I figure the truth is always the best answer, but Bletchley isn't convinced.

"Boys play rough. Maybe your brothers didn't because they're your brothers, but I don't believe that you could be ready for a real match by simply playing back-yard Quidditch," He protests. Agreements rise up out of the crowd. I feel awkward now, still sitting above everybody on some random guy's shoulder (a 5th year, I think).

"Who said I only played back-yard Quidditch?" I respond. "My old school had Quidditch too." Oops. I probably shouldn't have said anything about my old school. I quickly try to cover up my blunder, "Look – I love Quidditch. I either had to learn how to play like the boys, or not play at all, so I learned how to play with the boys."

There are a few confused looks all around the room, and more than a few people looked as if they had wanted to ask about my old school. Virginia speaks up.

"Have you wanted to be a boy your whole life, then?" Merlin she's horrid.

"I don't want to be a boy Virginia. I just --"

"You just enjoy being with them then?" She sneers. A few people laugh. I glare at my roommate. Behind her, Cassie looks at me with helpless eyes that seem to say _I'm sorry about her._

"Why wouldn't I? Boys aren't bitches like some of the girls I know." The crowd laughs even harder and Terry calls out with a low "ooh."

"Yes, that's true." She admits. "They're also classier than some of the girls I know. More…. Respectable." She bites off the last word and a hush falls over the crowd of Slytherins. They're all shocked at her blatant insult. I struggle to phrase my words in a way that won't get me into too much trouble. I nudge the guy whose shoulders I'm sitting on and he bends down so that I can stand on the floor. I walk slowly, menacingly almost, to Virginia, until I am standing level with her and our eyes are focused on each other.

"Virginia, you can think and say whatever you want about me. These past few weeks I've noticed that we're very similar. So think what you want, but I am not a whore." There is absolute silence while Virginia fumes and the rest of the house tries to decide what I meant. After three silent but electrified beats, Abraxas intervenes, stepping between us two girls.

"Nobody is calling you a whore, Ginny. People just got carried away with wanting to know your story," he explains, resting a hand on my shoulder to calm me down (and push me farther away from Virginia). "Right Virginia?"

All eyes, including mine, turn to the glaring brunette.

"Of course! I'm terribly sorry Ginerva." I purse my lips and nod, outwardly accepting her beyond-fake apology.

Abraxas smiles and pats me on the back. "Good, now we have a party to begin! A celebration of our outstanding victory over Gryffindor!!"

The crowd cheers and attention is diverted from Virginia and me. She storms off, but I stay rooted to my spot. From across the room, Tom Riddle is staring at me as if he's just figured out a magnificent secret.

Shit…

* * *

**A/N** - Reviews are a few of my favorite things! Thank you three million and one times to my readers who are constantly reviewing -- you know who you are and I love you!

Chapter 14 should be up soon.

~onceuponawonderland


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N** - There are a few different point's of view in this chapter. I've labelled them pretty well I think, but let me know if it's still confusing.

because now I've had two chapters in a row with disclaimers, I don't think I need one here.

enjoy!

* * *

**Tom's POV**

Who does she think she is? She acts like she's better than everyone else; it drives me crazy! She is in no way better than everyone else. She's the new girl! She should be awkward! She should be having trouble fitting in! But instead, she gets carried into the common room on the shoulders of a random fifth year, cheering and chanting as if she'd been here forever! It's obnoxious!

Ah Yaxely is a pain but at least she sees things my way. Peverell is too much a pain to be allowed to stay on that high horse of hers. First, she's beautiful. Anyone that beautiful is obviously going to cause a migraine. But Peverell knows she's beautiful and that makes everyone worse. The girls who are oblivious to their own beauty are annoying as well, simply because you feel they should come to their senses. But it's the girls who know they are beautiful that are the most annoying, because they pretend not to care while secretly trying really hard to get a compliment. Ginerva Peverell is definitely that type of girl. Can't you just see it? She wants people to notice her nice legs – that's why she wears men's clothing! Well… she hasn't worn pants since her first day here, and nobody really know why she came so maybe she had another reason… But then Quidditch! She insists on playing Quidditch! And you have to wear tight pants to play Quidditch! Ha! I knew it. Ginerva Peverell is an attention grabbing whore! Well I won't fall into her trap! Stupid girl.

Stupid Peverell. Except she's not stupid. All of her classes are advanced! She sits in class, in the middle of the room, right in front of me. She flips her red hair in my face and expects me to fawn over it! Well I won't! I have no time for silly girls. I'm Tom Riddle for Merlin's sake!

And what did she mean on the first day of the term that I was "hotter than [she] remembers?" What does that even mean? She's met me before? When? Merlin that witch is driving me crazy! She's so annoying!

I stretch my mind out to try and read her thoughts. My legimency isn't amazing yet but I can still read almost everybody's thoughts. What?! She's blocking me?! She's an occlumens? I stop trying to read her mind. Of course she's an occlumens, because that would infuriate me. I doubt she even realizes she's blocking me. If I didn't hate her so much, I'd teach her how to control it. Maybe I'd even teach her legimency. But I do hate her, so it doesn't even matter.

Oh great. She's walking over here. More like stomping over. I don't understand what her problem is, really, I don't. I haven't done anything to her.

"What do you want Riddle?" She spits. No need to be nasty. I sneer at her, because really, that's what I do. I sneer at people. A lot.

"What makes you think I want anything from you Peverell?" I hiss. Because I hiss at people I don't like. And I don't like her. At all. She's annoying, she plagues my thoughts at night, and she gives me migraines. The look on her face is one of confusion. Ha! I've stumped her. I'm not quite sure how my retort would stump her though….

"You were staring at me." Oh. Was I? That's embarrassing.

"I didn't mean to be." I say.

"You didn't mean to be?" For someone so smart, she's really quite dumb. "How do you stare at someone pointedly without meaning to? You were glaring at me. If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to kill me just by staring."

Could I really do that? Could I really kill someone just by staring? I didn't know that was possible.

"It's a muggle expression." She explains. "The real expression is 'if looks could kill'." She would associate with muggles. She probably does it just to annoy people. Because she's annoying. And annoying people are always striving to annoy. Peverell is an annoying person.

"Well I didn't mean to be glaring at you. I apologize." Ew. I just apologized to her. I'll have to wash my mouth soon.

"You're weird." I'm weird!? I'm weird!?

"You're weird." I bite. She snorts, and turns to walk away – to walk back to the party they're basically throwing in her honor. She shows off at a Quidditch game and scores a bunch of points and they throw her a party. Typical. Angry, I turn, fully intending to make a dramatic exit.

"Hey!" I spin around. She's glaring at me. She's like a Gryffindor when she's angry—all fire and explosion no ice. "What's your problem?"

"My problem? What's your problem?" She smirks. I nearly jump—she looks like me when she smirks. But of course, that's not possible, because we're completely different.

"I asked first." I glance at her incredulously. Is she four?

"Fine. My problem is you. You're annoying." I tell her, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"You're horrid." She says. All right then. "Infuriating."

"I feel the same way."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Great!"

"Goodbye."

"Of course."

"See you!"

"I don't really care if you do."

"I don't want to, but I will."

"Same here!"

"Leave me alone Riddle!"

"And you, me Peverell!"

"This is a party for _my_ Quidditch team! You leave!"

"Maybe I will!"

"You should!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Great!"

"Ah!" she screams and runs off.

See? She drives me crazy! She gets into my mind (not literally of course—I doubt she can do legimency) and makes me act so differently! It's ridiculous! I've taken to monologue-ing! Silently! She drives me crazy! Stupid, beautiful, annoying girl!

* * *

**Ginny's POV**

"He's infuriating! I can't stand him!" I shout, throwing my dress into my trunk with way to much force than necessary. Cassie mutters something. "What?"

"Nothing." She says quietly.

"Cassie – you said something. What is it?" I ask. "I promise not to get upset." She sighs and sits down on my bed. I stand with my hands on my hips.

"I was just remembering something Tristan said…" she says. Something Tristan said... oh.

"I don't like Riddle, Cassie. I hate him!" I insist. Cassie mumbles something again.

"Cassie, speak up," I plead, "I don't bite."

"You liked him at the beginning of the year." She repeats, looking at me rather oddly. I try to remember what she means and come up with only one thing–my excuse for not talking about my first encounter with Riddle. I grimace at the memory. The infuriating sixteen year old had plagued my thoughts ever since that night, showing up in almost every one of my dreams (the ones that I could remember anyway). I had successfully forgotten about my dreams from last night, and my discussion with Tristan until Cassie brought it up.

Could Cassie and Tristan be right?

"He hates me." I sigh, sitting next to Cassie on my bed. She hugs me. "Even if I do like him—which I'm not saying I do, because I really have no idea yet—even if I do, nothing will happen. He despises me."

Cassie pulls me into a hug. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. He's always staring at you." I'm turn sharply to stare at my best friend.

"What do you mean _always_?" I ask. She shrugs.

"Just… always." Cassie sighs. "And it's not just that. He cornered me the other day and started asking all sorts of questions about you."

I huff and turn away from her.

"I think you like him Ginny, and I think there's definite possibility that he likes you too."

I huff again. "I have transfiguration homework to do." I get up and grab my bag.

"Where are you going?" I pause in the doorway.

"I'm going to the library. I need to talk to Madam Pince about something." I say. I need to go somewhere Tom Riddle will not plague my thoughts.

* * *

**Tom's POV**

"Mr. Riddle, I do believe I asked a favor of you the other day." Headmaster Dippet says, arms crossed on his desk. I sigh.

"Professor, with all due respect, I can't do what you've asked." I say, trying to sound terribly apologetic.

"And why not?" he asks.

"Peverell and I do not get along. I do not think that my tutoring her would accomplish anything other than fights." I explain, sitting up straighter under Dippet's gaze.

"I feel otherwise. You have a strong grasp of the subject and could benefit from trying to help other students." Professor Dippet is quite stubborn; however, I'm usually able to get what I want with him.

"Her friend Cassie is more than proficient at arithmancy. Why can't she tutor Peverell?" Oops. That was not the right thing to say. It is clear that with that comment, Dippet made up his mind. He sits up straighter in his chair and uncrosses his arms.

"That is quite enough. You will tutor her until she has mastered the subject." I sigh. "I understand that Professor Dumbledore has assigned a rather difficult homework assignment, which requires research. Knowing Ms. Peverell, she will be in the library. You can go to her now and arrange your tutoring sessions."

Professor Dippet waved his wand and the doors to his office opened. Trying to control my anger, I stood and strode out of the office without another glance at the Headmaster.

* * *

**Ginny's POV**

Transfiguration homework done, I opened my arithmancy book to try and figure out what the hell was going on in class today.

"Echem." I glance up. Tom Riddle is standing above me, glaring.

"What do you want Riddle?" If my presence upset him so much, why did he seek me out?

"I'm your arithmancy tutor." What? I stare at him, open mouthed, not even bothering to be upset just yet. "Dippet was upset with me because I didn't seek you out to set something up as soon as he asked me to do it. We have to make a schedule now."

"What?"

"Are you stupid?" Tom asks.

"No, I'm not stupid. I'm just shocked." I close my book and put it away. I'm not even going to attempt to figure out what's going on in arithmancy. After all, it's not like I need the subject to play Quidditch, which is what I want to do as soon as I graduate.

"Are you going somewhere?" Tom steps in my path, temporarily stopping me from leaving.

"Yes." I answer, stepping around him. "I have Quidditch practice on Mondays, Wednesdays and Sundays. The team usually goes for a run on Saturdays. Tuesdays during our free period and Wednesdays right before dinner are most convenient for me. If you have a problem with those times let me know. Goodbye."

"What, no thank you?" Tom calls.

"Why should I thank you? It's not like you volunteered for the job." I shake my head. "Don't worry. You made it very clear that you don't want to be tutoring me. I'll see you Tuesday during our free period. I'll try not to annoy you even further with my ineptness."

With that I turned and left the library. Great. Now I have nowhere to go. I don't want to go back to the dorm, because Cassie will be there and I'll have to tell her about Riddle being my new tutor. And I couldn't stay in the library. _His_ presence in there was having too large an effect on me. If I had stayed I wouldn't have been able to hide my confusion—did I like him, or didn't I? Did he like me? Obviously not.

"Gin-bug!" Tristan hurries up to me. "What are you doing tonight?" I shrug.

"Would you mind doing me a huge favor?" The look on his face is desperate. I nod.

"Sure. What do you need me to do?" I answer.

"Well you know how we're one prefect short right?" I nod again, more slowly. "Well I've been doing double to cover for her, because Dippet has been hesitant to fill that spot, but I have a huge paper due tomorrow and need tonight to work on it. Can you do the rounds tonight? You'll be with another prefect."

I place my hand on Tristan's shoulder to calm him. "Tristan--don't even worry. I've got you covered."

"Great! Thank you!" He says. "I've got to run. Madam Pince is holding a book for me and if I don't collect it in two minutes she's going to give it to the next person."

"Well get going then!" I laugh. Smiling, Tristan pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek.

"You're a lifesaver Ginbug." He calls, speeding off. I roll my eyes and chuckle, while thinking that his kiss really was nothing other than a brotherly kiss, and wishing it were more.

* * *

**Tristan POV**

I speed off toward the library, fully intending to pick up a book, but not any Madam Pince had on hold. I round the corner and see Cassie coming toward the library from the other side of the corridor. I rush over to her and push her into an alcove.

"So?" I ask anxiously.

"Tristan calm down. Eileen Prince agreed to switch patrols with Riddle. She's going to use the essay as an excuse as well." Cassie assures me.

"Good. Ginny bought it." Cassie nods and looks out into the corridor. I peek out as well. Tom Riddle is exiting the library and Eileen Prince is going toward it. She stops him and gets right to the point, outwardly asking him if he'll switch patrols with her. He seems to be considering for a moment or two but eventually nods. Eileen thanks him and continues down the corridor, toward the alcove, while Riddle leaves the way Ginny did.

In seconds, Eileen is in the alcove as well.

"He agreed to switch." She says matter-of-factly. "I finished my paper last night, but I want to go over it again."

Cassie thanks the 7th year prefect.

"It was no problem." Eileen answers. "I hope your matchmaking goes well—I agree that Peverell and Riddle would make a great couple. He needs somebody to be his number one. She'd be good for him." Cassie and I nod in agreement and Eileen says goodbye and leaves.

I turn to Cassie and smile.

"Phase two, complete." I announce. She grimaces.

"Phase three will either go very badly or very well." I nod somberly.

* * *

**A/N** - Excited for phase 3??? I am!

Oh!!! Really exciting piece of news!! The Wonderful World of Harry Potter theme park in Orlando, Florida (Universal Studios) is opening June 18th!!! .com/photos/collections/gallery/2493/harry-potter-orlando-experience/fp#photo0

R&R


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**-- Phase three!

Enjoy!

* * *

I tap my foot impatiently and check the watch on my arm. Whoever I'm supposed to be patrolling with is late. Tristan is standing next to me, checking his watch. I glance up and look down the corridor and fix my gaze on the bend down the hall. If Riddle doesn't show up soon….

"Thank you again Gin-bug. He should be here in a minute." I raise an eyebrow. It's bad enough that I have to patrol with someone who hates me. For him to make me late is just plain rude.

"It's ten-seventeen. He's two minutes late." Tristan snorts.

"Since when do you care when someone's two minutes late?" He asks laughingly. I glare at him, still angry that he tricked me into patrolling with Riddle.

"Since that someone is Tom Riddle." I snap. "I'm still really pissed that you didn't tell me who I'd be patrolling with." This time, it is Tristan who raises an eyebrow.

"You would have said no if you knew." I growl at him.

"Slytherin, remember?" I roll my eyes. He and Abraxas had taken to tricking me into favors lately and calling themselves Slytherin when I got upset. I guess it's the Gryffindor in me that can't catch on.

"Go do your essay, you jerk." I say, pushing him away. Tristan laughs—he has a great laugh—and kisses my cheek again.

"You'll be fine. Thank you!" I sigh as he runs away. I'm not quite sure what's going to happen tonight, and I'm not quite sure I want to know.

"You've got to be kidding me." I spin around and glare.

"You're late." Riddle glares at me.

"And you're not a prefect." He says.

"I'm doing my friend a favor." Sweet Merlin he's annoying; he and his perfectly quaff hair. How dare he style that dark hair so perfectly? It's like he's trying to annoy me. "So how exactly does this work? Tristan didn't explain."

How dare he give me that look? I can't be expected to know what a prefect has to do, especially in this time period.

"Just follow me." He sighs and starts to walk down the hallway. Dragging my feet, I follow. I have a feeling I know how this night is going to go. He'll lead the way, treating me like an idiot. I'll follow, getting more and more annoyed every minute. Then we'll get in a fight and kill each other.

"Are we supposed to be doing something?" I call. "You know, other than walking around the school?" Tom walks really quickly. "Can you please slow down??"

We round a corner and still, he's not walking any slower, or acknowledging me at all. I sigh. I don't understand why he hates me so much. I mean, I have a reason to hate him. He's going to completely destroy the wizarding world. A voice in the back of my mind argues that he won't be Lord Voldemort for years. I tell that voice to shut up and stumble on behind him.

* * *

Nearly two hours later, we're almost done with patrols. We caught a fifth year Ravenclaw studying in an alcove about a half an hour after we started walking; Tom reminded him that it was after curfew and sent him on his way. I'll admit that I was really surprised by that. I was sure Tom was going to be mean to the kid. I guess I really don't know him.

"What's your favorite color?" Tom immediately stops walking and spins around, staring at me as if I've grown a second head.

"What?!" I stop walking and smile. I can't hate someone I don't know, right? Well I can, but I figure my time here will be a lot easier if we can at least get along.

"You heard me." He shifts his weight and looks around. A few of the portraits have gone quiet and are watching us.

"I heard you; I'm wondering why you asked." Tom explains, crossing his arms. I shrug.

"I just realized that we don't really know anything about each other. You can't hate someone you know nothing about."

"Yes you can, and I'm very happy doing just that." Tom retorts, turning back around and continuing down the hall.

"Okay, fine," I shout, following him, "but I'm not. I would like to get to know you!" He stops again, and this time I crash into him and fall flat on my butt. What is wrong with me? Why do I care so much? I don't like him, do I?

"Sorry…" I mutter, not daring to look at Tom's shocked expression. It isn't long before he's laughing uproariously and I can't help but look up.

"You're wearing boy shorts under your skirt?" he asks when he's finally able to take a breath. I huff and stand up, flattening my skirt down and fixing my hair.

"I may be a good flier, but I do have my klutzy moments." I argue. Tom laughs even harder. "Well if I hadn't been wearing shorts you would have just seen my underwear!" I shout, trying desperately to get him to stop laughing. My face is so red it could pass for a tomato—a really ripe one.

When he moves toward me, I back away, and he laughs even more.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he assures me, reaching out. "You have a piece of hair—" My breath catches in my throat and his hand pauses for a moment. Our eyes meet and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Before I know it, the moment is over. Tom is backing away, clearing his throat and leaving me standing frozen on the spot.

"Black," he says awkwardly, "My favorite color is black." I smile, glad that some of the awkwardness has dissipated, and answer my own question.

"White." Tom gives me a look.

"Why?" He asks, as if my liking white is betraying Slytherin. I straighten up, puffing out my chest and lifting my chin into the air.

"Because it goes with everything, that's why." Tom chuckles and promises me that my liking white is okay, so long as I still like Slytherin colors as well.

We walk on, asking each other random questions like "What's your favorite animal?" (Him—snake, Me—krup), and "What's your favorite number?" (Him—seven, Me—also seven). Before long we were moving onto deeper questions, learning more and more about each other with each question, and getting closer and closer to that funny relationship called friendship.

"This is beyond strange, you realize that right?" Tom asks me as we round a corner.

"Yes, I do," is my answer. "It's your turn to ask a question."

There is a comfortable silence as Tom thinks of a question. He really is a genius; he plans out everything before doing it unless, I've noticed, he's extremely pissed off.

"Who is your favorite brother?" I'm slightly jolted because I have yet to answer a single question about my brothers, let alone mention them, but I've started to get used to Tom's strange questions. It seems he pays more attention to me than I originally thought.

I think seriously about his question.

"The oldest—Bill," I reply finally.

"For what reasons?"

"No way!" I chortle, "It's my turn to ask a question. What's your family like?" His face hardens and his expression becomes a glare. I remember the little bits of information Harry had shared about the Riddles and the Gaunts and instantly regret asking about them.

"Ask another question." He demands quietly.

"Are they really that bad?" Oops! I didn't mean to ask that! Tom glances at me out of the corner of his eye.

"That's not what I meant, but yes." I don't know much about Tom's past, or even that much about his future. Looking at his face now, I'm wish I could have been there in his past, to help him and guide him, and be there for him. And I don't just want to know about his future, but I want to be a part of it.

We walk in silence. To our right, a few portraits whisper over a game of poker, and a group of witches snore loudly. I slow down to glance at a portrait of an odd-looking man. He winks at me and I speed along to catch up with Tom.

"He's ten years older than I am." Tom turns around, clearly not having a clue what I'm talking about.

"Who?"

"Bill. He's ten years older than I am, so he understood how to handle little kids and always took care of me." A look of comprehension dawns on his face and Tom nods a grateful little nod, glad for the change of subject. I continue," I don't know if you remember—you probably don't even know it happened—the other day I had a bit of a meltdown after dinner." Tom snorts. I'm still not used to him doing that; the sound sounds so odd coming from him.

"I remember." He does?

"You do?"

"I do pay attention to things."

"Okay… well anyways, I ended up falling asleep." I finish lamely, no longer remembering what my point was. The butterflies in my stomach are going crazy for some reason. I focus on when the fluttering started and realize with a jolt that it's him. It's entirely possible that I have a crush on Tom Riddle. But how?!

"Everyone was very worried about you that night." I'm jerked back to reality and stare at his face—that perfect, gorgeous face that towers above mine so condescendingly. It's not possible for him to like me back, is it? "Was that the first time—?"

"No." I answer quickly. Lying would only increase worry. "It happened a lot this past summer, before I came here…" A flash of movement—an image from the wedding, as if my mind were a muggle movie—flashes across my mind. "It happened at Bill's wedding."

"What--?" Another flash.

"Don't ask me about it. Please, I don't even want to think about it."

"Okay." It takes me a moment to push the memories to the back of my mind. I close my eyes and turn myself into an emotionless robot.

"Bill comforted me, even though it was his wedding and he should have been having a honeymoon. He and his wife had bought a cottage, and he took me there so that I wouldn't have to deal with everyone apologizing and treating me like a fragile baby. I stayed there until school started, and then he went on his honeymoon." I don't look at the boy walking next to me. I don't really register that he has slowed down his pace to match mine, either. "Bill has always been there for me. Always. No matter what."

"What about your other brothers?" I chance a glance at Tom. The deep, heart-string tugging moment is over. I am safe.

"Don't get me wrong, I love them with…the majority of my heart." I laugh softly just thinking about them and Tom smiles. "It's just, Bill had power over the rest of them that only an oldest child can have, and he made sure they didn't screw me over. And once he got old enough, he became almost like a second father to me."

"I wish I had a family like that."

I've learned enough in these past few hours not to look at Tom; it would embarrass him if I did. A thud down the hall catches our attention. Tom raises an eyebrow. It's close to midnight; only the ones who are completely aware of their rule-breaking stay out this late.

We hear the faint sounds of a girl giggling and a boy muttering.

"Should we catch them?" Tom raises an eyebrow.

"They're rule breakers. Of course we should catch them." I stick my tongue out. "Why, what were you thinking?"

I smirk and wiggle my eyebrows. Well, there was only one way to tell if he liked me, wasn't there? And if he's for it, then I can find out for sure if I like him.

"Wait here." First I wanted to see who it was. We didn't want any gossip getting started that wouldn't be in our favor. I walk a few steps toward the alcove the end of the hall and fish around in my skirt pocket. When I first came here, I had an extendible ear in my jeans pocket, and I had transferred it to my skirt earlier today.

Taking out the device, I make it invisible and toss it into the alcove. Tom comes to stand next to me and I hold up the listening part to our ears.

"_Oh Abe…." The girl giggles. _

"_Virginia I'm really not in the mood to get caught." _Abraxas and Virginia—of course. Tom looks at me as if to say 'you really spend time with him?'

"_Don't worry Abbie, we won't get caught. And if we are, we'll just say we were practicing for our wedding night!" _They're having sex? No way.

"_Virginia, I told you. I will not make love to you in an alcove. It's ridiculous."_ Oh thank Merlin…. _"I am a Malfoy. I do have class." _

I've heard all I needed to hear. I take Tom's hand and whisper for him to go along with it all.

"Oh Tom, I'm so glad we decided to keep this all secret." I say in a loud voice. The whispers from the alcove stop for a moment.

"What are you doing?" Tom whispers. The noises in the alcove start up again. I glare at him.

"Play along. This will freak them out worse than getting caught." I whisper. Tom straightens up and walks closer to the alcove.

"Yes, I agree." He states, obviously sarcastic. Seriously? That's the best he can do? "Snogging you in private is so much more fulfilling than snogging you in public." Better, but still sarcastic. There goes that game.

"Honestly Ginerva, I don't see what the problem is with going public with our relationship." I gape for all of three seconds, beyond pleased with his performance.

"I've told you! My family wouldn't approve." I allow my voice to get more hysterical.

"Why should that matter? You love me don't you?!" Do I? Why yes, that would be a rather interesting twist.

"Of course I do Tom." I sigh before hushing up a giggle. Tom wiggles his eyebrows and leans over me.

"This is fun." He whispers.

"Told you."

We're practically next to the alcove now.

"Don't you love me?" I whimper, fluttering my eyelids in mock flirtation. Tom takes a step closer and pulls me flush up against him. I gasp involuntarily and my stomach butterflies go crazy. Oh gods. I do like him….

"More and more every day," He growls. So quickly that I almost fall over, he pulls me into the alcove and shoves me against the wall, slams his lips against mine and kisses me with such a power I might faint.

"What in the name of Merlin…?" Abraxas shouts. "Ginny?"

"Oh my god! You whore!" Virginia shouts. I giggle against Tom's lips and push him off of me.

"Think we freaked them out enough?" I ask, laughing. Tom smiles and nods.

"Bet they'll think twice before staying out past curfew now!" He answers.

Behind us in the alcove, Abraxas and Virginia are gaping like fish and sputtering like a dying record player.

"You're quite a good actor Riddle." I stick out my hand in mock formality and he takes it in a firm handshake.

"You as well Peverell," He replies curtly. For a moment I'm pretty upset. A part of me was hoping that he wasn't acting. But then I remember that it doesn't matter, and I turn and gesture to the shocked couple behind us.

"Go back to the common room. Abraxas, you should know better." Tom reprimands. They hurry off and Tom turns to me.

"This is where we end the rounds. Goodnight." Tom turns on his heel and hurries away. This isn't where rounds should end….

I stand there, stock still, watching Tom walk away. No. I refuse to let myself be upset. I start to walk back toward the common room—the same way Tom went. What happened that made Tom so unable to even walk back to the common room with me? I'll admit it was a bit awkward after that kiss but really! His walking away was completely uncalled for. I think….

I trudge down toward the common room, getting more and more annoyed with each step. Why did I even like him anyways? He's just a moody, egotistical, bigot.

Dumbledore had assured me that my encounter with Tom's soul back in first year wouldn't have any big effects on my life but that was a total lie. It would also be a lie to say that I hadn't had a tiny little crush on Tom ever since then, but I had never even considered that it would actually come to anything.

Stupid diary.

I reach the common room entrance, give the password ("sterling") and walk in. Not five steps toward the couch and I hear my name.

"Ginny!" I spin slowly around and brace myself for the telltale shrieking of Cassie. I didn't expect Tristan to be rushing over just behind the girl.

Here goes…

* * *

**A/N** -- So... guesses on what phase three was? If not, don't worry. The next chapter will give some more insight on the plan, and whether or not it worked the way they planned.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N** - Too long. It has been too long. I'm so sorry. I'd go into the story of how I was on my school music department trip, and how we totally wiped out the competition because we're awesome, and how amazing the trip was, and how much I love my school... but I won't. Here's chapter 16!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Tom's POV**

How could I have been so stupid? It's not like I don't know the signs. How many girls and boys at this school have gotten into relationships? Well…not a whole lot actually, but I can recognize the signs when I see them! Agh! How could I have not seen this coming? The obsession with her looks, the way her intelligence drove me crazy; how could I have overlooked the fact that I harbored feelings for the girl?!

Am I really that naïve? I thought I was better than that! Of course I'm better than that! How could I have been so blind?

And of course she doesn't like me back. I'm not exactly a nice person, and I'm definitely not the social butterfly. I'm not her type. Abraxas Malfoy—now that's her type. Then again, she was dating Tristan Zabini for a few days… whatever happened with that? And what was that kiss? Did I not think for one second that maybe it was a bad idea? Argh! I hate this control she has over me! I'm not supposed to be the kind of man (oh who am I kidding, I'm still a boy) that can be led around by his… ugh! I am in control of myself! I make my own decisions!

Now if only I could figure out why the decisions I'm making are so stupid, and why they're stinking of Ginerva Peverell's influence.

"Sterling." I give the password to the portrait hole and ignore his comment about reminding him when it's my night to patrol.

"I could forget and leave, you know. Then you'd be stuck here until I returned." Yeah, yeah… I have bigger problems.

Was that my name I just heard? Who cares? Not me, I tell you. I have bigger problems to worry about.

I am not supposed to like Ginerva Peverell. I'm supposed to hate her. I do hate her….right? Of course I hate her. She's stupid and annoying and ugly. No she's not. I'm being stupid now, because I do like her. I'm an idiot. I've liked her this whole time.

Why in Merlin's name do I like her!? I'm not supposed to like her!!!

I stop walking and look around. Why am I standing in a hallway, and not going anywhere? Where am I going? It takes me a little while to remember.

"My room…right." I mumble, barely realizing that I've been muttering aloud for the majority of my mental rant. "And now she's messing with my mind? Did you see that? She just messed with my mind, and made me forget where I was going! And now I'm talking to an imaginary person in my mind. GREAT!"

Somebody clears their throat behind me. Oh, it's Abraxas Malfoy. Well that's just perfect.

"I think maybe we should talk about what just happened…." He suggests. That's probably a good idea, but quite frankly he's the last person I'd like to talk to right now. That's a lie. The last person I want to talk to right now is Ginerva, because I don't want to talk to somebody I just made a fool of myself in front of because I like her apparently, but she doesn't like me….. AND NOW I'M THINKING IN RUN ON SENTENCES! ARGH!

"I agree." I say quietly. "We should talk."

* * *

**Ginny's POV**

"WHAT JUST HAPPENED?" Cassie shrieks. Yep, I knew that was coming. "You have to tell me everything!"

"Ginny, what--?"

"Abraxas just came in here with Virginia! It was so crazy Ginny you should have seen it! But of course, you couldn't have, because that would ruin the plan. But still, you should have seen it!" Woah there Cassie, breathe! Good, she's breathing.

"Ginny—Abraxas said that--" Again, Tristan tries to say something and again, Cassie finds breath enough to interrupt. Those two are going to be good friends, I can tell.

"So Abraxas and Virginia rush in here, Virginia is shouting that you're a prostitute, Abraxas is gaping like a confused fish. Tristan and I ask what's going on, Abraxas yells something—all we caught was that it had to do with you and Tom Riddle, and something about theater…." Despite my angry at the world attitude, I can't help but laugh a little as Cassie gasps for breath and Tristan literally pushes her aside to continue the story.

"They both run off to their dorms and just as they leave, Tom Riddle storms in looking like—" Are my eyebrows up to my hairline yet, because I am freakishly amused.

"Looking like the world just changed without his permission!" Okay that kind of pisses me off.

"The world does not need Riddle's permission to change. It can do whatever the fuck it wants!"

Silence...

Maybe I shouldn't have said fuck….

"That's not the point." Good old Cassie breaks the silence. "The point is _what happened_!?"

I sigh, knowing that there's no way I'm getting out of this one. Why can't I have a normal life? I don't think that most girls have to go explaining away the things that I do. What happened on your prefect patrol—the one you weren't supposed to be on, because you're not a prefect? What happened to the family owl—the one you weren't supposed to go near anymore because of that one little pond accident you caused at age two? What happened with you and Harry—the boy you weren't supposed to date because he's your brother's best friend? What happened with you and Tom Riddle—the boy you're not supposed to like because he's a freaking Dark Lord?!

Short and simple; nice and sweet—those are the best kind of answers.

"We kissed."

"WHAT?!?!" Okay, so maybe short, sweet, nice and simple don't go over as well in the forties…. I quickly quiet my two friends and herd them away from the dormitories and back over to the couches.

"Quiet or you'll wake people up." I chastise. Tristan raises his wand to cast a silencing spell but I glare at him before realizing exactly who he is. "Shouldn't you be in the head's dorms?"

Tristan shakes his head no. Damn. "I'm staying the night with Abraxas." I wonder when he decided that.

"Then go stay with Abraxas. I'm not in the mood to discuss what happened right now." I try to push him off the couch, but there's a reason he could lift me so easily the other night. The boy's strong.

"Definitely not; I want to hear what happened." Why can't he be a normal guy and not care?!? It's like Ron all over again!

"Tristan, I'm really not in the mood to--"

"Ms Peverell?" Oh what now?! Cassie, Tristan and I all turn around to look for whoever addressed me. Tristan nudges me and Cassie and I follow his gaze to the open portrait hole, where Professor Slughorn is standing and beckoning me with a finger. Really? It's the middle of the night? What could he possibly want from me?

I stand, a part of me grateful for a reason not to explain my night, and make my way across the common room to the potions teacher.

"Yes Professor?" I brace myself for the worst. If he recruits me into the Slug Club, I swear to Merlin I'll stomp on his foot. I am not in the mood.

"The headmaster would like a word with you." Damn… that's worse. I nod, take the hall pass (apparently in the forties they actually bother to have a hall pass), and leave without waving goodbye to my friends or my teacher.

It takes me at least ten minutes to get to the Headmaster's office. Why it took that long, I have no idea. It's not like I'm not in shape! The long walk should have been a piece of cake for me! But I kept getting distracted by the lingering feel of Tom's lips on mine, the way my stomach went crazy every time he got close, and the intensity of his gaze on mine when we we're in one of those "moments." I took more than a few wrong turns and forgot to jump the trick stair as I thought about the emotionless mask he had suddenly worn when we stopped kissing.

When I finally got to Dippet's office my feet hurt, my mind was numb, and I was tired as hell.

"It was brought to my attention that you acted as a prefect tonight, Ms Peverell." Professor Dippet greets me by getting straight to the point. I enter the room and close the door behind me as he says this. Before I answer him, I take a seat in my usual chair.

"I was filling in for a friend. The prefect I was patrolling with handled everything—I was really just there to keep him company." Dippet purses his lips.

"Prefects patrol in pairs to ensure that nothing happens that could put a student in jeopardy." It takes all of my will power not to laugh at this. Does he really think that two prefects could really fight off a group of Death Eaters? It occurs to me that maybe it's not students that have the headmaster in a state of paranoia. Maybe it's a basilisk….

"We had a series of rather terrifying events happen last school year. The staff and I decided that it would be best if prefects patrolled in pairs from now on." Dippet explains. I nod; it was the basilisk. "This is not on topic. I have a point and I'd like to make it before classes start."

Am I the only one who realized how much Dippet hates me? Maybe it is just me; maybe I'm the only one who hears that last sentence and notices how he seems to be saying that it's all my fault. I don't know what exactly it is that's my fault—probably everything—but it sounds like that, right? I'm not crazy, right?

"As you are probably aware by now, the 6th year Slytherins are short a prefect. The teachers and I have been a bit late on deciding who would replace her, but after watching you and hearing of your performance tonight, I have decided that you are the best candidate…. Unfortunately." Ha! See? He hates me! He's annoyed that I'm the best candidate for the spot of—holy beans on toast! What did he just say?

"What?" I shout, more than shocked.

"Just say yes Ms Peverell. Virginia Yaxely is the only other 6th year Slytherin girl with high enough marks to qualify and I would really rather not pick her."

My stomach does a few flips and my mind races. It is an incredible opportunity, but can I handle it? My mind turns into a pro/con chart and I quickly go through all of the details the way Hermione taught me to. If I take this responsibility on I'll officially be the most involved student the school has probably every seen. Not even Hermione was this busy (except for maybe in her third year)! Then again, I really don't want to give the job to Virginia. Dippet sounds desperate. Maybe…

"One condition." He grimaces, accepting the fact that I have the upper hand here and not liking it one bit. Finally, he sighs.

"Yes, yes, I'll agree to your conditions."

"Just the one," I correct. He better give me this one condition.

"Just the one, then." I smile a small smile before becoming a face of reason and confidence.

"You allow me to drop advanced arithmancy."

The clock ticks. Wind blows by outside and tree branches hit against the window. Professor Dippet hold out his hand.

"Deal." I smile and shake his hand.

I'm trying so, so hard to block out Dippet and his obnoxious voice. He's been going on for fifteen minutes about the responsibilities of a prefect. I know, I know! Can I please just go back to my common room and get some sleep? Sleep….

"_What's your bedroom at home like?" Tom asks. I smile. _

"_A complete and total mess. Clothes on the floor, posters of the Holyhead harpies everywhere. I think I may have left a pygmy puff cage lying around somewhere." I answer honestly, trying not to laugh. Mom would be very upset if my pygmy puff got into a crack in the wall and created a nest. _

"_It sounds great." I nod._

"_It is great. It's the only place I can get a really, really good night's sleep." _

"You'll need a prefect badge too, I suppose." Dippet continues. No, I'll need a rhinoceros. Sick of the headmaster trying to get his own thoughts together, I interrupt.

"One question." Dippet looks up from his list (he's making a list for me) "If I'm dropping advanced arithmancy, does that mean I also get to--"

"No." He answers my question immediately.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask." I protest, folding my arms over my chest and leaning back in my chair. Dippet mirrors me and raises an eyebrow.

"You were going to ask if you could drop your tutor as well, and my answer is no." I unfold my arms and resettle myself into the chair. Fuck you Armando Dippet.

I trudge into the Slytherin common room an hour after I left. Ten minutes to get there, plus the half an hour Dippet spent boring me, and the twenty minutes it took me to get back—I am officially exhausted. And I'm in no way in a good mood. There is too much on my mind, I have a ten percent chance of getting a good night's sleep, and I don't even want to think about the amount of gossip that I'll be featuring in tomorrow.

"Ginny! You're back." Of course Cassie waited up for me. Why wouldn't she wait up for me? I don't see Tristan though, which is good, because it means he took my advice and left me alone. I smile and stop walking, allowing Cassie to catch up.

"What did the headmaster want?" She inquires, frowning at my tired eyes. I shrug.

"He made me a prefect." It's a very unremarkable development when you've not slept well in many nights, the only real rest you've gotten was plagued with nightmares, you've gone from dating one boy to breaking up, winning Quidditch and kissing another boy all in one day, and you've just been bored out of your mind.

I stop Cassie from shrieking just as she's taking a huge intake of air, "I have a headache Cassie. Please don't get too excited."

Cassie's a good friend, she really is. A bit overdramatic at times of course, but that's not always so bad. I smile.

"Come on; let's go check out my new room." I offer, reaching for her small hand. Cassie pulls away, leaving me utterly confused.

"The boys are over in Abraxas' room." She explains. "By the boys, I mean all three of the boys involved in tonight's ordeals."

"Good for them." Still confused, I reach for her hand again so that we can go to my new room. Again, she pulls away.

"We're supposed to go over there so you and Tom can explain what happened tonight." I stop trying to get to my new room and take a deep breath. No way. I'm not going to explain everything to them, and I'm definitely not facing Tom. I turn away. It's times like these when I really, really, really miss Hermione. She would have just let it go.

"You can go over if you like Cassie," I say without turning to look at her. "I'm going to my room."

She doesn't go with them. Instead, she follows me into the room in the hallway with the door now marked "Ginerva Peverell—6th Year Prefect"

Wow. All I can say is wow. The door informs me that I can choose a password at a later date—all I have to do is let it know what I want it to be. The room has a huge bed, a gorgeous mahogany desk, a big wardrobe and a comfy-looking couch. There's even a bathroom connected to the room! It's safe to say that even in my exhausted state, I'm in shock. This is amazing!

In a trance, I kick off my shoes and go to lie on the bed.

"So? What happened?" Just like that, I'm out of my trance, and back to being extremely annoyed. "I guess I understand that you don't want to tell the boys what happened just yet, but since it's just us now you'll share the story, right?"

I sigh. Cassie reminds me of a younger cousin. A younger cousin who just doesn't get it.

"No Cassie, not right." I sit up. She's frowning, confused, and probably hurt that I won't share. "I'm sorry but I just really, really don't want to think about it right now."

"Ginny—" Cassie climbs up onto the bed next to me.

"Fine! You want to know what happened?" I give up. Cassie's right; I need to get this off my chest so that I can sleep tonight. "We were doing patrols. We started to ask each other questions; get to know each other, stuff like that. We hear Abraxas and Virginia making out in an alcove and I have the stupid idea to freak them out by pretending to be dating Tom. I thought it would be an interesting way to see if he liked me the way I liked him. So we start acting. Things got carried away and we ended up kissing. Sure, we freaked out Abe and Virgnia, but now I don't know what to think because as soon as Abe and Virginia left, Tom stalked off! I mean what the hell!? That's not how to treat someone you just kissed! And _he_ kissed_ me_! Not the other way around!" I'm shouting now. Cassie puts her arms around me and pulls me close. My breathing slowly returns to normal and tears begin to roll down my cheeks.

"Oh Ginny, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault I like him." I mutter pathetically. It's that stupid diary's fault. Cassie shakes her head and holds me at arm's length.

"No Ginny, you have to understand. Tristan and I knew that you liked Tom, and we were pretty sure he liked you back. We set up this whole thing so that you two would have patrols together. We convinced Eileen Prince to switch rounds with Tom. We even suggested to Virginia that she take Abraxas out to that alcove. Oh Ginny, I'm so sorry." Cassie finishes her confession and I continue to stare at her blankly. She and Tristan did what?

"Ginny? You heard me, right?" she checks, gazing cautiously into my eyes. I look away and push her off the bed. Luckily she catches herself before she actually falls and hurts herself.

"Get out."

"Ginny?" My nostrils flare and my glare turns to ice.

"Get out. Now." How could she do this to me? How…. Why would they do this to me? I hear Cassie scrambling to straighten herself and she quickly exits the room, closing the door behind her.

I let out a high pitched scream of frustration. Tears stream down my face and I collapse into a heap on my bed. I want to go home.

* * *

**Tristan's POV**

Cassie shut the door to the 6th year prefect room quietly. I wait patiently, my arms hanging limp at my side, perfectly sure that nothing is wrong.

Cassie jumps a few feet in the air when she turns and sees me standing right beside her.

"Why were you in there?" I ask. From inside the room, a girl screams. It's loud, high pitched, and full of sorrow and frustration. I know immediately it's Ginny. Forgetting my former question I ask another. "Was Ginny made prefect?"

Cassie nods. That's good; it will make my job making rounds a whole lot easier.

"So why didn't you two come to Abe's room?" Cassie glares at me.

"She hates us." What?

"She really liked him, Tristan. We should have just let them get together on their own." Cassie sighs, "We've ruined everything."

Oh. Ginny and Riddle…. Cassie gives me a look that says everything. A few things hit me at once. First, I need to get Riddle to tell me everything that happened. Second, Cassie and I messed up. Third, Ginny is probably more upset with the two of us than she has ever been before.

I turn to Cassie, smiling sarcastically, "To quote Ginny, 'fuck'."

* * *

**A/N - **I apologize for any grammatical mistakes or any other kinds of mistakes I may have made in this chapter or in any of the other ones. I'm really trying to crank these chapters out, so I've taken to writing them and just posting them as soon as I finish. I don't really edit them, so I'm hoping they're all okay.

I am planning, however, to go back once I've finished the story and edit it for grammar and consistency and pretty much everything you can edit a story for.

Hope you liked the chapter. I'll try and get chapter 17 up soon!

~onceuponawonderland


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** - Dear readers,

I received some extremely helpful criticism for my last chapter, so I worked on this one and hopefully, it's up to par. I just want to say that I am so thankful for every comment you guys have been sending me. They're so much fun to read and they're extremely successful motivators! I have one warning and that is this: for the next few weeks, my life is going to be extremely stressful. I have a million tests and a few grades I desperately want to pull up. The Shakespeare show I've been working on opens soon and with that comes a whole lot of work as well. If things go the way I want them to, chapter 18 will be up by the end of the month, and 19 and 20, within the first few weeks of May. My warning though, is that it may not turn out the way I want. Either way, my goal is to have the next three chapters up by the end of May.

Thank you and Enjoy the chapter! (It's a shorter one, but I felt that it needed to end where it did.)

**Disclaimer** (cuz I felt like I should have one)**: Things I want in life at the moment: Straight A's, a 5 on my AP exam, to spend more time with my friends, to be J.K. Rowling..... hopefully at least two of these are possible. **

* * *

Tom's POV

I've known Abraxas Malfoy for as long as I have been at Hogwarts. From when I first met him—he, a well-known second year and I, an extremely talented first year—to this day, I have believed us to be somewhat close to friends. In fact, Abraxas Malfoy was perhaps the only other person in the world that I felt I could trust. By trust, I don't mean that I would share my deepest darkest secrets with him, but rather that I was more than willing to ask a favor of him and not expect things to blow up in my face. Of course, now that Peverell had gotten to him, I wasn't sure what to expect.

I followed Abraxas to his room—the prefect room he had taken over from Tristan Zabini—and sat down more hesitantly than I would have. He simply wanted to talk, correct? And despite my current reservations, I knew enough about the Malfoy heir to know that he wouldn't just want to talk if I held off. I also knew enough about him to know that if I sat there quietly, soon enough he would explode. He would yell and scream and carry on; accuse me of this and that and ask whys and what were you thinking-s and how come-s. Having been in these situations before (Abraxas was the only person I allowed to have tantrums in my presence), I was fully prepared to sit there quietly and let him scream it out. Which I did, and he did and soon the room was quiet again.

"Tom," Abraxas asks, his voice back to normal, "what is going on?" I sigh. Sighing is not a good thing. Sighing means you are weak. Either that or you haven't collected your thoughts yet and are therefore buying time by breathing slowly and loudly. I'm not too fond of either reason.

"Honestly, I have no idea."

The room is quiet for a while. There's tension. I have a bad feeling that whatever Abraxas is about to say is not going to be good for me.

"Do you like her?" Like who? I don't like any girl. I'm Tom Riddle. Girls like me, but I don't like them.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about." I do though. He's talking about Peverell--stupid, annoying Peverell. I mentally kick myself. There I go again, acting like a common schoolboy with a common schoolboy crush. I could vomit.

"Yes you do, Tom." Abraxas insists. I ignore him, already too lost in my own thoughts. Tonight's disaster—for that's what it was—had embarrassed me to no end. I was supposed to hate this girl--this fiery red-head that dared to threaten my power. But she asked one personal question and suddenly I was a pile of mush. Goopy, childish mush.

"Tom?" I don't want to answer him, but I do, because he's already pestering me enough as it is.

"Yes, I do like her. But more than that, I hate her. Are you happy now?" Obviously he wasn't, but my response would buy me some more time alone with my thoughts (in the figurative manner, of course).

I had gone to meet her (not knowing it was actually her I was meeting) earlier tonight in a pretty good mood. I had yet to recognize my infuriating feelings for her, my homework was completed, and had all the necessary research completed on my…special project. Of course, when I saw _her_ everything about my night started to go down the tube.

Who in this world was out to get me so badly? Why must I be constantly thrown together with this witch? And of course, why in Merlin's name did I care so much?

"Tom?" I snap back into reality. "Either you like her or you hate her. You can feel both."

"Are you daft?" Yes, I am in a bad mood, "Of course I can. I'm Tom Riddle! I don't like girls. Girls are distractions, they expect love and romance and I simply will not offer that. I don't have time for girls. Girls are not part of the plan."

"Yes, yes, the plan. Immortality and world domination and all that…" Abraxas knows all of my plans. He is, in a way, my right-hand man. It's really logistical—if I didn't want a right-hand man I would not have one. Abraxas has come in quite handy. Throughout our school years, he's helped me with outside research and given opinions on almost anything I suggest. After school, once we start our glorious campaign, he'll provide all of the necessary funding and of course, the most convenient headquarters for troops and hiding place for dark artifacts. As I said, entirely logistical.

"Tom, didn't you ever think that maybe you could fit a Queen into your plan somewhere? From a purely logistical standpoint, of course." As I know Abraxas, Abraxas knows me. Everything needs reason; it all must fit with logic.

"I'm not going to be a King, Abraxas." My mind is still dwelling on my atrocious behavior these past few days. "Besides, you've seen my behavior these past few weeks. I've been disgusting."

"You've been a teenage boy." Abraxas counters. Yes, well a future Dark Lord has no time for teenage-boy behavior.

"The only relationship worth having is one of love, and as that does not exist, there are no relationships worth having." This has been my theory for as long as I can remember. I can never understand why teenagers and young adults are so obsessed with dating and finding "the one" perfect mate when clearly, they never will. Abraxas is silent. He has heard my theory more times than can be counted, but every time he reacts the same way. Next he will try to find a reason for this theory.

"Tom, just because you haven't seen love before doesn't mean it doesn't exist." I've heard this theory of Abraxas' almost as often as he's heard my theory. Once again, we are at an impasse. I stand up, not wanting to discuss anything more with my friend (for Abraxas really is my friend, no matter how many times I try to re-title him).

"Goodnight Abraxas."

"Tristan will want to know what happened tonight. I want to know what happened tonight…" Abraxas sighs when I don't respond. Instead, I open the door and repeat:

"Goodnight Abraxas." He sighs again and I roll my eyes. Abraxas was fond of sighing—my theory on sighing was another one he didn't agree with.

"Goodnight Tom." I leave the room quietly and retreat to my bedroom.

* * *

Ginny's POV

Why did Professor McGonagall send me back here? What was the point? I was only fooling myself in thinking that I could fit in and lead a normal life. What I had going here was possibly the exact opposite of normal.

I liked Cassie and Tristan and all of my other friends here well enough, but they don't even come close to rivaling my friends back home—the one place I truly want to be.

I want to be home. Everything was simple there; I was bored and lonely, I loved Harry and missed my family, I wanted to get good grades but could only focus on the war. Everything here was so complicated. I was surrounded by friends, and yet totally alone. I loved Harry and missed my friends, but I liked Tom and had friends. Tom. He was the most confusing part of this whole mess, and the main reason I wanted to go home.

Home meant I could hate Voldemort will all of my being, and not feel a single doubt about it. Here, Tom was the boy who made my heart race, my stomach flutter, and my mind burn with longing. I hadn't seen anything that would turn him into Voldemort—not yet at least.

A note slips under my door and I crawl off the bed to read it.

_Ginny,_ I recognized the lettering instantly as Cassie's work and sighed. _Tristan and I are extremely sorry for messing things up for you. We promise to never again intervene in your life. Don't worry about having to be around us any longer, we understand and are separating ourselves from you on our own. Best wishes, Cassie. _

Oh sweet merlin….

Not even knowing where to begin with the new rant forming in my mind, I raced out of the room to try and find my friend—the one who was convinced I never wanted to see her again.

Cassie was walking up the stairs to the 6th year girl's dormitory. I sped up after her, calling her name in a soft whisper.

"Cassie!" Cassie's face was stony hard and she was braced for a screaming match (I knew because her eyes were closed tight, the way she closed them when she was trying to shut her ears as well).

"Cassie, look at me." I plead. She shakes her head and turns around.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. We screwed up, I know, but I don't think I could handle seeing how mad you are right now."

"Bloody hell…." I sigh, watching as my friend races up the stairs. A door opens down below me and Eileen Prince sticks her head out.

"Peverell, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" She calls. I spin around and head back down.

"Sorry…" She sighs.

"It's ages after curfew! Go to bed!" And with that she pulled her door shut again and I made my way back to "Ginerva Peverell-6th Year Prefect".

Maybe I should write someone. I could ask to spend some time with McGonagall herself, but I may be too tempted to yell at her for something she hasn't done yet. I could go speak with Dumbledore (tomorrow, of course). Dumbledore always seemed like the type that didn't mind listening when you bitched about all your problems. And he usually had a solution to some of them too!

I sat down on my bed, rummaged through my trunk for some spare parchment and a quill, and penned a note to Dumbledore. I would have to send it tomorrow morning because I couldn't exactly get to an owl at this time of night, but I felt better that I now had a plan. Classes were tomorrow, but I'm sure I'd be able to find some time to meet with the brilliant transfiguration teacher.

More content than before, I lay down and blew out the lamps.

I'd tell him everything. Well, not everything, but I'd explain more about being from the future. I'd tell him what was going on (the general idea) and ask for advice. It would probably feel a little bit awkward asking Dumbledore for relationship advice, but I'd simply have to manage. The whole Harry/Tom thing was positively eating me alive. Not to mention the fact that Tom was going to turn into the one person in this world that I absolutely positively wanted dead….

While that thought drifted to a close and I drifted to sleep, a new wave of questions rushed over me. Was it right that I was friends with Tristan and Abraxas? What about the rest of the Quidditch team? Cassie? The Malfoys and the Weasleys were rivals; how could I be friends with one of them? And the Zabinis! It was well known that the family was a huge supporter of Voldemort when he came to power. What if, all this time, I've been hanging out with the very people—the core—of what will soon become one of the darkest times the Wizarding World has known?

My friends didn't seem like evil people, but who in their nature is truly evil?

There had to be a reason for my being here….

Maybe… Maybe I could stop it. I could be Voldemort's downfall…

But how?

* * *

**A/N **Thank you guys! Much love and I hope you liked the chapter.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N** - I am soooo sorry for how long it has taken me to get this chapter up. Unacceptable, I know. Hopefully you'll enjoy it though.

A little preview: This chapter is really the start of Tom and Ginny's relationship.

Enjoy!

* * *

"You wanted to see me Ms. Peverell?" Dumbledore asks me, sweeping his arm toward the chair in front of his desk. Nodding, I close the door to his office and take a seat.

"You got my note then?" I ask, though it was obviously a stupid question. The young Transfiguration teacher had sent a note to me during breakfast to explain that he could see me during my free period, which was now.

"I did." Professor Dumbledore's hair was still a dark red, and was almost long enough to reach his waist. I smile. "Is there something that is the matter?"

I try to gather my thoughts. Where should I start? I wrack my brains and come up with nothing. "I don't know where to start." I admit finally, slumping down in the chair. Dumbledore chuckles and sits back in his chair, as if he is about to hear a wonderful story.

"The beginning is usually a good place." I too let out a laugh and silently agree. Dumbledore would say something like that….

I open my mouth to reply, feeling more comfortable every moment, "I agree. Unfortunately, I don't really know where the beginning is for me."

A light seems to go off in Dumbledore's head. He sits up straight before rushing over to the windows and shutting the curtains. Confused, I sit up straighter and follow him with my eyes.

"Ms. Peverell, am I right in thinking that one of the topics you wish to discuss with me is the future?" I gulp and nod. Dumbledore strides more calmly back to his chair (the quick changes in demeanor are leaving me more than confused) and sits down. "Then there are rules I wish for us to follow."

He pauses, and there is an odd silence. I realize awkwardly that I am supposed to say something.

"Of course."

Satisfied, Professor Dumbledore continues, "Do not tell me any details. Use logic to decide whether or not a topic is appropriate to mention. Keep in mind that while you may know me in the future, I am not yet that man and do not have the same knowledge he does."

It was strange and a bit frightening to hear Dumbledore speaking like this. I tried to quickly process all of this and decide how the hell I was supposed to phrase everything in order to get his help with what I really needed.

"I really only need to tell you a background. I know that you can't really help me with any problems concerning the future. But I really just needed someone to talk to about, well, social problems. Because I'm having a lot of those lately and I can't really talk to my friends about them."

I let this all out in a rush, the fact occurring to me mid-confession that this Dumbledore might not give a hoot about my social problems and simply send me on my way. I wait in silence, cautious about Dumbledore's only reaction—raised eyebrows. After a moment though, his body relaxes.

"Well Ms. Peverell, what seems to be the problem?"

* * *

I leave Dumbledore's office feeling much more in control of this whole mess than I had going in. Dumbledore, in typical Dumbledore fashion, had not given me any direct answers. But he had given me great advice.

"_Life has a way of working itself out in the end," he said confidently, "No matter what you decide to do, life will go on the way it's supposed to."_

As backward as that had sounded, it had helped. I had come to the conclusion that no matter how I tried, Cassie wouldn't listen to me until she felt sure she hadn't ruined my life.

Confidently, I march down toward the library. I was taking a wild guess here, but if I didn't find Tom there, I'd just have to go look somewhere else.

As I round the corner and step out onto the fourth floor, I smack into another body. Completely shocked, I let out a loud cry before falling clumsily to the ground.

Utterly humiliated, I don't dare look up. Flustered and clumsy, I manage to stand back up and straighten out my skirt. Without a word, I grab my bag off the ground, mutter an apology and continue on my way. I make it three strides before…

"Wait!" As if my body is acting of its own accord, my feet freeze. No! I don't want to wait. "Wait…"

I don't understand myself sometimes. This is what I wanted, so why am I so afraid? Why is my heart beating so frantically and why are my legs unable to move? It's not like this is something out of the ordinary. Taking three deep breathes, I brace myself and turn slowly around just as the footsteps stop.

"We need to talk." No shit….

"Yes Tom, we do."

"Not here." What? Why the bloody hell not here? I almost shout at him, but where would that get us? I need to talk to him. I can't hide the fact that I like him. Not anymore. And it doesn't matter if he doesn't like me back—I don't need a boyfriend to survive. I am a strong woman, who doesn't need anybody to protect her! I'm not a damsel in distress! I'm here aren't I? I'm fighting in this war and nothing anybody can do will change that! I am in control of my own life.

The voice in my head calms down and I realize I've been standing in the corridor, staring blankly at Tom for the entirety of that inspirational mental ramble. Cheeks reddening with embarrassment, I motion down the corridor and instruct Tom to "Lead the way."

Nodding, he brushes past me and heads toward the main staircase. Still flustered, I follow quickly, taking two steps to match every one of Tom's.

I don't doubt that I can handle myself in any situation. So what if I have almost two more years here? I am a strong, confident, powerful witch.

At least, I really hope I am.

I follow Tom up to the seventh floor, struggling to keep up the whole time.

"Where are we going?" I call. He doesn't answer. Instead, he stops walking. Confused, I look around. I recognize my surroundings immediately and look anxiously at Tom. He's pacing quickly across a stretch of wall. Once… twice… three times. The door to the Room of Requirement appears and I try my best to look stunned. Outwardly, I am silent, not trusting myself to speak.

Taking my silence for confusion, Tom explains. "This is the Room of Requirement, also known as the Come-and-Go-Room. It turns into whatever you want it to be, I think. I come here often."

He does? "You do?"

Tom nods. That's not good. What if he walks in on a training session for the team? Or… he does realize other people know about this room, right? I mean, I'd estimate a third of the school uses it on a day-to-day basis.

"I don't think anybody else knows about it, save for a random few. It's a nice place to just think." I nod, deciding to let him continue thinking that. Tom reaches out and opens the door; I walk in, and he comes in behind me. I'd be lying if I said I didn't panic at least a little when he shut the door behind him.

"So…" I start, ignoring the room he has asked for (a Slytherin-themed living room) "We need to talk."

"We do." Aside from that, Tom says nothing. I wait for him to say more, but he doesn't.

I turn, curious, and am ambushed. Dominant lips crash onto mine and strong arms encircle my waist, pulling my close. Tom groans softly and my knees go weak.

"Tom—" His lips move to my neck and I forget for a minute what I was going to say.

"Tom, stop." Wait… no! I didn't mean that! Tom stops and looks up at me, his eyes a darker blue than I have ever seen them. "We—we need to talk. About last night, I mean."

His eyes lighten and he moves away to sit on the couch. I stand awkwardly, before perching on an armchair. My mind is reeling.

"Last night was a disaster and I do not wish to speak of it." I take a deep breath. Tom's mood swings are going to push me over the edge someday. Half the time, he's a normal teenage boy, and other times… it's like he's trying to be an adult and he shouldn't be!

"Well too bad, we have to." And like that, Tom goes from impassive to irate.

"I am Tom Riddle! I don't have to do anything I don't want to!" Unfortunately, I too have mood swings. Mum calls it the Weasley temper, but really, I think we all get it from her side. I jump up, march over to Tom, and slap him. The hollow smack is startlingly loud in the Room of Requirement and both Tom and I recoil. His blue eyes though, are soon narrowed in fury, but I can feel magic coursing through my veins. Tom can't hurt me.

"I don't want to hear your high-and-mighty rational. I don't give a shit who you are, nor do I care if you don't want to do something. I'm calling the shots here." I don't even pause. My wand is in my pocket and I won't hesitate to use it if I have to. "Last night was not a disaster. In fact, I rather enjoyed myself until the very end, when one of your ridiculous mood swings made you act like an arse! You kissed me, and you just kissed me again. I'm not exactly lady-like but I still deserve to be treated with respect and I'll be damned if you don't start to show me some. Now." I sit back down on my chair and cross my arms.

"It's your turn to speak." I say coldly.

"I refuse to be some obnoxious adolescent, ruled by his hormones or controlled by his emotions!" Tom retorts, his voice rising in volume. Pissed off and still slightly hormonal, I act on instinct. In two big strides I cross over to the couch and practically launch myself at Tom. My lips find his and my hands reach into his dark, combed hair. Caught off guard, he is frozen. I press my lips harder against his and mutter his name almost incoherently under my breath. Then, like a switch was flipped on, Tom reacts.

He reaches out and grabs my waist, pulling me onto his lap. His hands run up my sides and settle again on my hips; his tongue asks for entrance to my mouth. He kisses me passionately—out of anger or desire, I can't tell.

I pull my head away, effectively breaking the kiss, and look down at Tom. His blue eyes are angry, and scared, and dark from passion. I smile softly.

"I really like you Tom." I whisper, my nose touching his. "And I hope—I think—you like me too. The question is what we are going to do about that?"

Silence. Tom pushes me gently off his lap and I settle onto the couch next to him. He turns his head up to the ceiling and sighs. I wait. His eyes close, and he drops his head into his hands. For another minute, there is silence. Tom shakes silently. My heart breaks.

I scoot closer to him on the couch, until my body is pressed up against his, and begin to lightly rub his back with my hand. Tom sits up straighter and looks helplessly at me. I can honestly say I have never felt this way before. He looks at me with such pleading eyes—eyes that beg me to save him from himself.

"I'm so confused, Ginny. I don't even know who I am anymore."

Tears form in my eyes and I let out a sob. Tom crumples into a ball again and I envelop him in a hug.

Crying softly, I whisper a promise in his ear. "You're a great man, Tom. One day you'll realize this. I have faith in you."

* * *

**A/N** - Reviews are much desired, especially for this chapter.

Also, I apologize if Tom and/or Ginny seemed to be out of character in this chapter. Ginny, I can try to fix, so if she seems OOC, let me know. Tom, on the other hand, will not change. I understand if he seems off but remember that Tom is going through a really hard time. At the end of the previous school year, he was responsible for the death of a student. A few months later, he killed his father and grandparents. He may have done some pretty heartless things, but he's only sixteen. I have no doubt that he would be consumed by guilt as well as a desire to continue on his path. Hence, his confusion.

If you have any questions or comments about this, please don't hesitate to let me know.

Chapter 19 will hopefully be up soon.

Thank you,

Onceuponawonderland


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N - **And here we go! Chapter 19, as promised. Enjoy!

Oh... **Disclaimer: **A proof: JKR is a genius. I am not a genius, therefore, I am not JKR. JKR is the owner and mastermind behind the Harry Potter series. I am not JKR, therefore I am not the owner/mastermind behind the Harry Potter series. And voila! Disclaimer done.

* * *

"Is that…?"

"No way…!"

"Who would've thought… where's Virginia?"

I laugh quietly and squeeze Tom's hand as we walk down the corridor. He's so tense, and his cheeks have been a light pink ever since we stepped into the common room last night (after I promised to keep his crying a secret).

We pass another group of girls who gasp and quickly rush away, whispering. Tom tenses even more and stops walking. This time, I can't hold back a hearty chuckle. Tom spins around and glares at me.

"What is so funny?" I try my best to look apologetic.

"You," I am highly amused by his embarrassment. It never, ever occurred to me that Tom Riddle was shy. It's adorable.

"Explain, please, why I amuse you so much," Tom replies flatly, crossing his arms and glaring at me. I giggle again and kiss him lightly on the cheek. At this display, he blushes even more furiously and pushes me away. "Ginerva, people are watching."

I stand back and raise an eyebrow, knowing that this will freak him out (I look a lot like him when I raise one eyebrow, apparently).

"People will always watch, Tom."

"I don't want them to watch." Here we go again…

"Well too bad." One of these days, I'm really going to have to learn to control that mouth of mine. It says things without thinking way too often and gets me into trouble. Tom opens his mouth, but I cut him off before he can't start on his "I'm Tom Riddle and blah, blah, blah."

"It doesn't matter if people watch. If you make sure that all they see is confidence, their opinions won't matter." My mother and Hermione think on the same wavelengths. My mother gave me the confidence speech the summer before I went to Hogwarts—back when I was obsessed with "The boy who lived" and was anything but confident. It wasn't until after my second year, when Hermione repeated this speech in a much more kid-friendly way, that it really sunk in. Tom smiles and the blush begins to fade away.

"So that's why you were completely unaffected by the rumors about you." I smile hesitantly. In truth, I don't think I actually heard any of the _bad_ rumors. But yes, that was the general idea.

I take Tom's hand again and squeeze tightly.

"Brace yourself—the Great Hall is soil for the Gossip Grapevine." Tom gave me the 'you're nutters' look but squeezed my hand anyways.

"I'm Tom Riddle. It doesn't matter what people think of me, because I know I'm better than them anyways." He says, more to himself than to me. Something knots in the pit of my stomach and I'm reminded even more obviously that my new boyfriend is a future dark lord…

But one look at the adorably determined boy next to me and my heart melts again. Who cares if he's not exactly morally-pure? I got stuck in this world and I'm going to enjoy myself. If enjoying myself means dating a Dark Lord then so be it. Because quite frankly, I have yet to see anything that will make him Lord Voldemort. If I can help it, I never will.

As we enter the Great Hall together the whispers become even more obvious and my ears ache to hear what people are saying. We walk up to the Slytherin table and sit down. Tom is stiff as a board and mutters a quiet 'no thank you' when I pass him the pumpkin juice. I eye him critically but ignore it and serve myself bacon.

"Tom?" I ask, holding out the plate. He shakes his head and continues to stare blankly at nothing. I sigh and put the plate down. Then I look around the table. Everybody is staring, some more conspicuously than others. Virginia Yaxely, for example, has not wiped the stunned look of her face this entire time. Getting pissed off, I hold out my hand to Terry Zabini, who is also bugg-eyed and open mouthed.

"Pass the eggs please, Terry." He snaps out of his trance after a moment and passes me the plate of eggs, tipping the plate accidentally and dropping some of the egg onto the table. I shake my head and take the plate from him, then quickly mutter a scourgify to clean up the egg.

"So…" Terry starts as I offer the eggs to Tom and he once again declines, "Are you two… together now?"

I give the plate of eggs to Tom anyways, whispering that he needs to eat something and answer Terry without looking at him. "That's the general idea, yes."

The group of girls that had stopped to listen in gasps and starts to whisper excitedly. Terry smiles and thumps a fist on the table. "Well good for you!"

Tom smiles hesitantly at Terry. "Pass the pumpkin juice, please, Ginerva." Shaking my head slowly and rolling my eyes, I reach out and hand the pitcher to him.

I eat my breakfast quietly next to Tom. Our housemates seem to have gotten over the shock of Tom actually dating and me… well, me dating Tom. Virginia is gossiping with the roommates and the Quidditch team has returned to arguing about anything and everything Quidditch. Glad to feel semi-normal, I interject with my own comments every now and again, but my heart isn't in it. Cassie and Tristan aren't at breakfast and it is starting to both annoy me and worry me.

Ignoring the situation at my own table, I turn and allow my eyes to roam over the Gryffindor table. Excited to see that McGonagall is in fact sitting there, I jump up just as somebody suggests that Tom comes to watch our practice today.

"Ginerva, where are you going?" Tom enquires, successfully avoiding an answer to the question asked of him. I wave him off.

"I have to talk to McGonagall." I bend down to kiss him but he turns his head, blushing again. I huff. "Oh, honestly! I'll see you in class."

I turn on my heel and leave Tom to fend for himself amongst his housemates. You'd think he'd be a people person but he's really not. He's what Harry would be like if Harry didn't have friends—talked about, but not social at all. Then again, if Harry didn't have friends he'd probably have gotten himself killed already.

All I can think of as I march over to McGonagall is that Tristan better not be holed up in the Head's dorm of his own accord.

* * *

So. . . Tristan wasn't holed up in the Head's dorm of his own accord. How do I know this? Well, after I checked that he and Cassie were in there and got the password from McGonagall (she warned me that she would change it later today), my plan was to barge in, grab my friends and force them to listen to me. That didn't work. Cassie had told the portrait not to let me in, so he didn't.

"_Cassandra Wilkes", I shout, banging on the portrait hole much to the portrait's displeasure. "Open this portrait and let me in! You're being ridiculous!" _

"_No!" _

_I sigh._

"_Stop being a bloody Hufflepuff, Cassie! I'm not mad at you." I have no qualms against Hufflepuffs in general—only their dramatics and loyalty issues. _

_I hear muffled talking and a frustrated growl, most likely from Tristan._

"_You're just saying that so I'll let you in. And then you'll hex me. Well I know better than to fall for your tricks Ginny Peverell."Cassie shrieks. I scream. _

"_Cassie. You have one more chance. Open this portrait hole, or I really will get mad." I take out my wand and aim it at the portrait, who runs screaming into another frame. _

"_Cassie let her in!" Tristan yells. _

"_NO!" I sigh again and square my shoulders. Sorry portrait..._

"_Reducto!" And with a great explosion, the portrait hole no longer stood in my way. Instead, Cassie's stunned, terrified face, and Tristan's annoyed one look back at me. I walk into the room and tuck my wand away. Cassie yelps. I roll my eyes, feeling actual disgust at her antics. _

"_I have the biggest desire to curse to into a million pieces right now, because obviously that's what you want, you're pissing me off to no end and quite frankly, you deserve it. But I won't, because somewhere buried under that complete and total idiot is my friend." With those kind words I grab Tristan by the arm and drag him out of his own common room. I drag him all the way down to the Great Hall, making sure to apologize to McGonagall and quickly shout "I'll fix it, I promise," to Dippet along the way. _

"Uh, Gin-bug? Where are you dragging me?" Tristan asks hesitantly as we pass the Great Hall. I come to a stop and breathe deeply. Adrenaline is still pumping through my body, not to mention I am so beyond ticked off at Cassie. I tell this to Tristan.

"I am so beyond pissed off at Cassie." And then I grab his arm and keep dragging him. He doesn't really protest, which I'm thankful for because he'd be a lot harder to drag if he did.

"Yes, I got that. I also assumed you're not actually mad about the other night. But that doesn't answer my question." I love Tristan, I really do. He's level-headed, he's not a bloody Hufflepuff, and he's hot. Not to mention, one of my best friends. I guess I should probably tell him where we're going.

"Black Lake."

"Then perhaps, and this is just an idea, I can walk there without you bruising my arm?" I smile guiltily and release his wrist from my death-grip with a muttered apology. Smiling softly, Tristan gives me a hug and we walk the rest of the way to the lake for an hour-long run before class.

* * *

Tom's not a huge fan of Quidditch. At least, I don't think he is which is why I'm kind of shocked that he actually showed up to practice on a Monday night when he would usually be studying in the library. (Total guess on where he'd be, by the way.) Tristan and I walk into the middle of the pitch, where Tom is standing awkwardly with the rest of the team. The awkwardness needs to be remedied. I march purposefully over to him, grab his collar and yank him down to my level. With a sly grin, I lean up and kiss him passionately. Remedied could also be interpreted as, "make more awkward," correct? If not then I guess I fail at remedies because Tom may be this shade of pink for the rest of the year.

"Hello." I whisper. He blushes more… And then sees what I'm wearing and jumps about three meters in the air.

"What in the name of Salazar Slytherin are you wearing?" Now it's my turn to blush. Terry comes over and swings an arm around my shoulders.

"Ginny wears this sort of thing all the time. We have no problem with it, of course." He explains. I shove him away.

"Pig." He snorts, but walks back to the team to start stretching. Tom stares open mouthed.

"So the rumors are true?" He gasps. My blush fades about as quickly as the bug I squashed earlier died. I slap him. Again.

"I am not a slut, or a whore, or a man. If you think that, this relationship will be over before it even starts." Tom opens his mouth to protest. "No. I am sick of these sexist attitudes, I am sick of this proper and not-proper shit. Who cares if I show some leg? Do you really expect me to play Quidditch in a skirt?" Well Ginny, that was a lovely little temper tantrum you just had. Have you ever heard of coffee? No? Good. I shake my head and try to stop talking to myself.

Tom shakes his head as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry. You're not a whore. Besides, it would be beneath me to date a whore…" I glare. He stops talking and gulps. I smile. It's nice to know that the future Lord Voldemort is a wee bit scared of me. "I'm just worried about your… virtue."

I snort. My virtue… right. "I can handle myself Tom. Go sit in the bleachers and watch your girlfriend do what she does best."

"Which is…?" Tom teases. I huff.

"Quidditch you tosser!" I laugh and shove him toward the stands. I start to stretch but Tristan jogs over.

"Well… you two definitely jumped right into a relationship! Unconventional, but I guess that works perfectly for you two. You really like him don't you?" I nod and smile sort of sadly. I can tell already that I've dug myself into a hole. I've caused too much trouble and gotten way too attached. In less than two years I'll have to go home and leave this life behind. For a split second, I can picture the devastation, the broken hearts, the empty, lost feelings…

"Yeah, I really do."

I know I sound selfish thinking that, but I know that that's what I'll be feeling too._  
_

**A/N** - So? What do you all think? Reviews are still lacking, sadly. I don't know if that's because people have stopped reading or if people just haven't had time. Which is totally fine and understandable. It's just on my mind.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N** - Annnnd... Chapter 20.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Nice aim Blishwick!" Abraxas shouts. Terry lets out a whop and adds his own "Yes!" as he smacks the bludger back at Kendall. Tristan, Roderick and I are flying about, lazily tossing the Quaffle back and forth while Terry and Kendall try knocking the bludgers off their paths. Kendall hits another and it collides with the one Terry has been knocking around, sending it speeding off in the other direction.

"Woohoo! Go Kendall!" I shout. He blushes. I half-consciously grab the Quaffle out of the air and send it back at Roderick with a glare. "You're lucky we did that blindfold thing!" I shout. He just laughs.

From across the pitch, Abraxas calls everybody in. I touch down in the center with the rest of the team, only slightly sweaty and expecting some new insanely difficult training technique that would make us indefinitely better.

"We've got an hour left but considering we don't have a game for a while, I think we can end early." What? End early? Am I dreaming or on some alternate universe? No way did Abraxas (craziest captain since Oliver Wood, not that I would really know) just say we could end early.

"Abe are you feeling alright?" Tristan asks, voicing the question everybody is dying to hear answered. He shakes his head.

"I'm fine. There's just stuff I've got to do." We all glance around at each other, totally not buying his excuse. "If you guys want to keep practicing that's fine. One day of ending early won't kill us and I know you guys have a lot of work to do too."

I look at Tristan. Tristan and Abe are best friends. If something was up, Tristan would know. But Tristan only shrugs, making me even more worried about the Malfoy heir.

"Well I'm staying here." Terry announces, heading to put his broom away. "If anybody cares to work out with me, feel free to join. Especially you Gin-bug." He winks flirtatiously and squeezes my bum as he walks past. Kendall blushes and Tristan and Abraxas both lunge toward the younger Zabini. Silently, I swing my arm out to stop them, grab my wand, and cast a silent hex at Terry.

Within seconds, he is screaming and running back toward me, a cloud of bat-boogies flapping around his head. The rest of the team is laughing uproariously. I grab my broom and take off into the air, waving flirtatiously at Terry as he shouts apologies and pleads in my wake. Somebody will fix him later.

I fly up over the stands to where Tom is sitting. He has a notebook open and is scribbling furiously in it. I land silently and go to sit on the bench behind him. He tenses when I slide my arms around his waist and kiss his neck. I move my hands up his sides and start to massage his shoulders and move my lips to his ear.

"Were you watching?" I whisper. Tom pulls away and I growl. Not even Harry could resist me whispering. "Tom?" I ask, more sternly. He closes his notebook with a sigh and turns to face me.

"I was watching and then I got bored." I smirk and sit on his lap.

"Are you sure you didn't get distracted?" I try to sound sexy. I have to sound sexy if I want my idea to work.

"I did get distracted. By my plan. Which doesn't involve you." Incomplete sentences? Why the clipped tone? I raise an eyebrow and kiss Tom slowly on the lips.

"I have a plan too. And it involves you one-hundred percent." I whisper against his lips. He answers back with some sort of "nuh" and I smile. Perfect. I kiss him again. "Come work out with us."

Damn... moment over. One second I'm on the lap of possibly the hottest guy in the school, next I'm in a crumpled heap on the floor in between two benches, glaring angrily at said hottest guy.

"No." Ugh. I groan and attempt to untangle myself.

"Help?" I ask pathetically, reaching up my hand for Tom to take. He sighs and pulls me out of my heap and into a standing position. "Why won't you work out with us? Working out is good for you. Plus, you'll get to spend time with me!"

Tom raises an eyebrow. "I'm busy."

"Yeah, yeah, your plan. I get it." I snap, grabbing my broom. Ever since he let slip the fact that he had a "plan" I'd been trying to figure out what it was. Tom was mysteriously silent on the subject and I was beginning to get a bit antsy whenever he mentioned it.

"Abraxas isn't working out with us either. Maybe you two can go plot and scheme together." I shout sarcastically. "Or, hey, why don't you two just go shack up together! Get married, have kids! No need to worry about me! I'm just trying to be a good girlfriend over here! It's not like I care if my boyfriend spends more time thinking about the rest of the world than about me!" I literally scream the last part. First Harry spent more time figuring out how to save the world with Hermione and Ron. And Tom spends all his time alone already, figuring out how to ruin the world no doubt. If I'm getting myself into another one-sided relationship I will be _very_ upset.

"Calm down Ginerva." Tom says, wincing slightly. "I suppose I can take a break and work out with you."

"Don't bother." I spit.

"Don't be immature." He bites back. I glare. "I said I'd work out with you." I jump on my broom.

"And I said don't bother!" I start to fly away but Tom grabs my broom. Bloody wanker. Maybe we're really not a good match. I like him, but that's quite possibly entirely the diary's fault. I may not even really have feelings for him. Maybe I hate him and the effects of the diary's curse are just making me think I like him. Maybe…

Tom gives one forceful tug on the broom handle and I go crashing into his chest. His lips smash against mine passionately. I can't help but moan a little. His tongue darts into my slightly open mouth, not waiting to ask permission. I slide my arms around his neck; his hands hold me tight, pressing me against him. Just as suddenly, we break apart.

"Why does this mean so much to you?" he asks softly. I inwardly sigh. This is nice Tom. This is sweet, caring, cautious, unsure, romantic Tom. I like this Tom. I like him a lot. His eyes search mine, desperate to understand.

"I want to spend time with you. I want to mean more to you than just someone to lock lips with every now and then. And I don't want this relationship to be one-sided."

"Obviously you mean something more than that to me, Ginerva! Would you even be my girlfriend if you didn't? Of course not. A girlfriend was not part of the plan." I snort. I was screwing up the whole plan. How selfish of me. I shake my head sadly.

"Well I'm glad I mean something to you then." I say flatly. I position my broom again the way I want to go. "I have homework to do. I'll see you at dinner."

* * *

Sometimes it's nice to have your own room. You don't have to worry about other girls coming in and moving about. You don't have to worry about getting odd stares or mean glares from the girls who believe (and probably started) the rumors about you. And you don't have to worry about mixing your things up with someone else's. But on the other hand, it's a lot harder to find someone to talk to when you're sitting alone, on a big bed, feeling miserable about life.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

I sit up in bed and look at the clock. It's almost dinner time, so I must have fallen asleep.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I shout, slowly getting up out of my bed and meandering over to the door. "Hold your horses."

Yawning, I open the door to my room wide enough to see who's on the other side. "Can I help you?" I ask.

"So, you and Tom, huh?" Cassie asks shyly. The Gryffindor in me is roaring with happiness, smiling from ear to ear and jumping around in some sort of weird victory dance. Outwardly though, I'm all Slytherin. I raise an eyebrow and pop a hip.

"Come to your senses then, did you?" I ask in my most superior tone. Cassie hangs her head.

"I'm such a bloody Hufflepuff." She says miserably. I can't help it. I laugh. She really is a Hufflepuff, and I have no idea how she got sorted into Slytherin. Can a hat get drunk, because if it can, the sorting hat was most definitely drunk when it sorted Cassie. "I had to beg the hat to put me in Slytherin—my family would have kicked me out if I didn't get sorted here. And the hat said that I was really good at scheming, which I guess made me Slytherin enough to fit in. Too bad most of my plans turn out really badly for one or both parties involved."

I open my door wider and pull Cassie into a hug. So she really did belong in Hufflepuff. I take back what I said about the hat being drunk.

Cassie pulls away and shuts the door. "I'm really sorry Ginny. I completely over reacted." I bury the anger that shoots up and motion for Cassie to sit on the bed. "You'll tell me all about how you and Tom got together, of course, but I really do need to apologize. I don't know what's wrong with me, I really don't."

"What do you mean?"

"I always over react! About everything! It's so annoying and I just can't control it!"

"Centuries of in-breeding?" I suggest lamely, sitting down next to Cassie. She laughs.

"How do you do it?" She asks. "You just take everything in stride. You get mad for like, a minute, and even then you just let it all out and get over it. I don't understand how you can do that!" I shrug, though I have an answer. "You push through everything! You were mad at me for being a bloody Hufflepuff but you went on with your day. You have no idea how jealous I am of that skill."

"It's not exactly a skill, Cassie." I say simply. No it's not a skill at all. Half the time I wish I could be like Cassie. To be able to focus so intensely on one specific thing and just let it be my world for however long it takes to figure it out. But war takes things from you that you can't hold a funeral for. War changes people.

War changed my family—it turned Percy into an even bigger prat than he already was, it made Neville brave, it even convinced Hermione that not everything can be found in books (most things can, according to her, but not all). Me? Well it turned me cold. I never stayed completely focused on one thing for a long time. It was always "what do you have to do, how are you going to do it and what's your next move?" Harry had taught us that in the DA. When you're fighting, you can't even think. You have to act on instinct and just keep going. If your partner falls, well, you have to keep going. It was fight or flight. Kill or be killed. Mourn… or be mourned. There wasn't time to be controlled by emotions. You couldn't let your guard down. Ever. It didn't matter what people thought of you. If they're on your side, they're on your side. If they're not, they're trying to kill you.

You pick your battles and fight the ones you either have to fight to save yourself or should fight to help you later on.

In a way, the war had turned all of us into Slytherins.

I break myself out of my thought-trance and turn to face Cassie.

"Actually Cassie, even though your Hufflepuff behavior gets annoying, it's who you are." I say. She smiles softly at me. "Embrace it. Your personality gives off enough warmth to heat a room. Don't let anything make you cold."

I couldn't imagine a world that lived for eternity in war. Happiness was so hard to find as it was.

"I won't. But now you have to tell me all about you and Tom!" Cassie squeals. I smile. My friend is loud, warm and so genuinely happy, and I hope she'll always stay that way.

Lord Voldemort ruined everything. He tore apart families and ended innocent lives. He turned a Gryffindor lion into a Slytherin snake. And for what?

* * *

**A/N - **Hope you guys all liked this chapter. It was pretty difficult to write, because I wasn't sure what should happen.

Anyways, reviews are very much appreciated.

Love you all,

Onceuponawonderland.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N** - I can't even BEGIN to describe how horrid I feel. I haven't updated in forever. And no, I don't mean little kid forever, mommy's going on a two week vacation and won't be back for forever, forever. I am awful. I am a terrible, terrible person. If you're reading this, it means you are an amazing person. Fantastic! Incredible, really! And I cannot thank you enough for continuing to read my story. This chapter is twice as long as my usual ones and I'm not allowing myself to leave the house until the next chapter is up either, and I'll make it the same length! I really am a terrible person. I am sooooo sorry. I don't have the words to describe how sorry and frog-like I am. I am a frog. Please forgive me, oh amazing ones.

Please enjoy chapter 21. And if you haven't completely lost faith in me yet, I hope this chapter gives you a reason for why you've held out. I will get better. I promise. I know I've promised before but now I really promise. I am so sorry.

Disclaimer: JKR isn't a frog. I am.

* * *

I should have known it was too good to be true. I liked Tom and Tom liked me and that was great. But had Tom ever been in a relationship before? No. Have I ever been in a situation like this ever before? Definitely no.

I don't know what I was expecting out of this relationship but it certainly wasn't this. Tom and I have been fighting on-and-off for weeks now. Neither of us is willing to open up to the other and spill our secrets. I refuse to talk about my past and he tenses up whenever I mention his. He forbids me from asking about his future and I don't want to talk about mine (because it's currently in the hands of a time turner's ability to bring me home). Our arithmancy tutoring sessions are complete bull. He sits there and does his homework while I struggle through mine. If I ask a question he tells me to look it up in the textbook. If I complain that I don't understand it he tells me to be quiet and let him study. I've threatened to go to Dippet, but it was an empty threat—Dippet hates me and wouldn't care. What's worse is that we fight about the most insignificant things! Just yesterday we were fighting over pillows.

"_Hey Tom," I say as he sits down next to me on the couch. _

"_Hello." _

"_How was your day?" I ask him, trying to start a conversation. Tom glances at me with an odd expression. _

"_The same as yours I suppose. We had all the same classes." He answers finally. It's quiet for a while and I shift my weight uncomfortably. Things have been awkward for the past few days. We had a really bad fight on Wednesday and have been treading carefully ever since. _

"_Can you pass me that pillow?" I ask, pointing. He jabs at it. _

"_This one?" I nod. "The one I'm sitting on?" _

"_Or the other one. I don't really care." I reply, shrugging. Tom guffaws. _

"_You're asking me to give you the pillow I'm using?" The tone he's using hits something inside me and I sit up straighter. _

"_You're not really using it; it's just sitting next to you." I protest. "My back is bugging me and I need another pillow." _

_Tom sits up straighter, challenging me. "Well I'm using this pillow." _

_Angrily, I gesture widely with my arm, pointing a finger toward the other pillow. "So give me the other one." My voice is strong, pissed off, and demanding. _

"_No." His is strong, pissed off, and determined. I rise up even higher on the couch, practically on my knees. _

"_I need another pillow." I grind out. _

"_So get one from another couch." Tom bites. I jump to my feet and grab at the one behind him. _

"_I want that one!" I'm screaming now. A bunch of younger Slytherins have stopped studying to watch and our friends (well, mine really) are frozen in place waiting to spring into action if wands are drawn (which is unlikely because despite both our tempers, no magic has been used in a fight yet)._

"_What is wrong with you?" Tom shouts, grabbing back at the pillow. _

"_MY BACK HURTS!" I holler. I reach out and grab a pillow off another couch and throw it at Tom. It hits him square in the face and he lets out an "oof". _

"_Fine! Take the fucking pillow for Merlin's sake!" He yells, throwing it at me. I side step the pillow and spin around, intending to run to my room. "Hey!" Tom shouts, hitting me again with a pillow. _

_I spin back around, glaring. "What?" _

"_What about the pillow?" He asks at normal volume but with the most scathing tone a Slytherin can manage. _

"_I don't want it anymore." _

_And with that I pivot on my heel, grab Cassie and lock myself up in my room. _

_A few hours later at dinner, I apologized for being a crazy hag and Tom mumbled a "sorry" back. _

Really, it was getting ridiculous. I have come to the conclusion, then, that neither Tom nor I were ready for this relationship and I plan to tell him this when I next see him. Which would be now.

"You okay?" Cassie asks me softly. She stayed with me last night while I got my anger and then tears out of my system, and she has stayed with me since the end of classes so that she'll be close by when I talk to Tom.

I nod and motion for her to give us some space. Being Cassie, she opens her mouth about three more times without saying anything and then finally gets up and leaves. I watch as she sits down next to Terry and Kendall and strikes up a conversation. I would so much rather be in that conversation than the one I'm about to start.

"Hey Tom." I greet, crossing my arms nervously and uncrossing them because I don't want to seem unsure.

"We weren't ready for this Ginerva." He says in return. I jerk back in shock. What did he just say? "I know what you're thinking and—"

The prat is reading my mind now? How the hell did he manage that?

"No."

"No? It's not a question Ginerva." Did I say no? That's right, I did say no. I have officially changed my mind. We are perfectly ready for this relationship. I don't care if Tom doesn't think we are. We are two teenagers, calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. We're not getting married. It's not a huge commitment. And I'll be damned if this mind-reading, future Dark Lord, and gorgeous hunk of teenage boy breaks up with me.

"We are not quitting this relationship." I declare strongly. Tom's brow furrows as if he is trying to decide if I'm actually saying what I'm saying.

"Are you skilled in occlumency?" So he really _was_ reading my mind! Damn, now I need to learn occlumency!

"We are still in this relationship Tom. As teenagers, we are by definition, ready for this relationship. Whether or not we are willing to make it work…" I trail off, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

"Are you proposing we give it more time?" He clarifies. I force a smile and nod.

"Yes. Let's give it more time. Let's try not to fight. Let's go into Hogsmeade tomorrow and spend some time together outside of classes." I suggest, hoisting myself up onto the back of the couch and cross my legs at the ankles.

"I had planned to study tomorrow."

"One day not studying won't kill you." I answer, shrugging.

"I have extra credit work to do."

"Any extra credit work is due on Fridays, which is today. And your grades are perfect already." If he comes up with another excuse I will stab him I swear.

"It's not work for any class." My eyes form a glare I have to physically resist the urge to grab for something strong and pointy.

"Tom Riddle, I am your girlfriend. If you plan to make this relationship work you will spend the day with me tomorrow." There is a threatening tone to my voice and I definitely intend for him to recognize it. In fact, I want him to get the message so clearly that I actually try to project my thoughts of his murder (should he not spend tomorrow with me) into his legimency-knowing mind.

Hopping down off the couch, I kiss his cheek and start to walk away. "I will see you here at ten-thirty tomorrow morning. Have a good night."

* * *

I wake up early the next morning, because I actually did have some work I had to get done. The deadline for an essay was Monday and since I had the fight with Tom Thursday night, I forgot to turn it in on time, on Friday. Mom always said if a boy starts negatively affecting your school work, he's not the right boy to be with. Unfortunately, my damn Gryffindor pride forbade me from ending this relationship on account of that would be quitting and Gryffindors don't quit. Well, they do, but only for really, really good reasons. And I didn't have any of those.

I quickly finish my essay, trek down to Professor Slughorn's office, slip it under his door with a note attached, and go back to bed for another blissful hour of sleep.

"Sorry I'm late. I caught a second year trying to sneak out with a group of third years." I explain, bounding into the common room at 10:45.

"Sneak out of the dorms?" Cassie asks. Oh Cassie… she really should phrase her questions differently or don't ask them at all.

"She meant that they were trying to go to Hogsmeade." Tristan explained, chuckling.

"Can we go now?" Tom asks rudely. I sigh loudly and take his hand.

"Yes, Tom, we can go now." With that he starts to practically drag me out of the portrait hole and down the corridor. Tristan and Cassie chase behind us, whispering things I really don't want to listen to.

The walk into Hogsmeade is uneventful. We walk along, not speaking, not doing anything, and not thinking really much of anything either, I assume. Tristan and Cassie are still whispering, which is about as eventful as this walk into Hogsmeade is.

"Where do you want to go first?" I ask Tom, attempting to break the silence that has lasted us the entire walk. He looks down at me and then back out to the road in front of us.

"I'm meeting Abraxas in The Three Broomsticks at eleven-thirty." He replies flatly. Control the anger, Ginny. Don't do anything stupid. Breathe… count to ten…. Okay, now speak.

"Until eleven-thirty, then?" Tom says nothing. "Well do you have a favorite shop here?"

"I don't come into Hogsmeade much. I didn't get permission until last year and since then I've only come if I had to."

"Well I like Honeydukes." Tom stops walking suddenly, causing me to be yanked backwards and my arm to be tugged too hard for its liking.

"How do you know about Honeydukes?" Oh shit! I'm not supposed to have ever been here before. Does Honeydukes have stores elsewhere? I'm sure they do… except, I've never heard of any.

"My family visited here on vacation once." I fib. Tom stares at me long and hard, and I completely avoid direct eye contact. "Honeydukes, then?"

I pull Tom in the direction of Honeydukes and remember to stop at a side-street and look around as if I don't recall exactly where the shop was. Tom points in the right direction and I smile and laugh.

Could one kill fakeness? Is fakeness kill-able? Because there is a whole lot of fakeness seeping from my pores right about now.

"I know you're lying to me. You don't have to laugh and pretend you're not." Tom hisses angrily. I sigh and slump my shoulders.

"I'm not lying. I've been to Hogsmeade before with my family." There. That's not a lie. I have been to Hogsmeade before with my family!

"Fine."

"Fine."

What is it about relationships that change people so much? When we weren't in a relationship we could hold a normal conversation (when we didn't hate each other, mind you) and talk about our lives. What was it about having a title that made us so cold toward each other? That night when we patrolled together we talked about everything! The night we got together we couldn't keep our hands to ourselves. Now that we have titles and an actual relationship, why is everything so different? It just doesn't make sense.

I wander through Honeydukes taking this candy and that off the shelves without really looking at what they are. I guess it's just muscle memory but I don't even have to tell my feet where to go to get to my chocolate. Tom follows me through the store, muttering rudely about how I'm going to get fat, and do I even have the money to pay for all that chocolate? I don't, of course, but I have a system.

When we get in line I start to go through all the candy. I remove about half of it from the shopping bag and hand it to Tom.

"Could you put these back for me?" He raises an eyebrow and doesn't move. "Please?"

After what seems like a very rowdy mental argument, Tom removes himself from the line and goes to put everything back. He's back within seconds and I push a third of what I have left into his hands.

"And don't just dump it into the first barrel you see. Have some class." He glares at me but goes to put the "discards" away.

I pay while he's away and we make our way back onto Main Street.

"We still have ten minutes before you have to meet Abraxas. Do you want to do anything?"

"No, thank you." I roll my eyes at the curtness, but offer him a fizzing whizbee anyways. "Ginny, could you go save a table at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Where are you going?" Please don't blow me off Tom. Be a gentleman. Be a good boyfriend. Please, please, do not give me a reason to hate you right now.

"I have a quick errand to run. I'll be back in time to meet Abraxas." Wonderful for Abraxas, but why are you leaving your girlfriend?

"I'll come with you." I tighten my grip on the hand he's trying to take away and take a step closer to him.

"Ginerva, the lunch rush is going to start soon and The Three Broomsticks will be packed. If you go save us a table, I can get my errand over with and won't have to use up any of our time later on." Damn… I don't have any response to that. It's perfectly logical and he said it very nicely. Why couldn't he have given me a reason to hate him?

Without a word, I yank my hand out of his and storm off toward the Three Broomsticks. Well, it would have been dramatic if I wasn't going the wrong way.

"The Three Broomsticks is that way, Ginerva." Tom calls. Trying extremely hard to keep my angry face plastered on, I turn back towards him and make my way in the correct direction.

"Be quick." I mutter as I pass him.

I get to The Three Broomsticks, tell the barmaid (Rosmerta's mom, by my guessing) that I need a table for three, sit down and wait. At five minutes until eleven, Abraxas walks in, sees me and sits down.

"Where's Tom?"

"Hello, my dear friend. I've been having a lovely time, thank you so much for asking! It's a bit chilly though—far too chilly for this time of year. How are you?" I reply with false cheer. Abraxas doesn't laugh. I didn't expect him to. Abraxas hasn't laughed in as long as Tom and I have been fighting. He's ended Quidditch practice early twice since that first time. He has neglected to do almost all of his prefect duties and I haven't once seen him sneaking off with some girl. Tristan has no idea what's going on with him, and we've all been very worried.

"Where's Tom?" I sigh. Today is a day for sighing, I suppose.

"He's running an errand. How are you Abe?" I try.

"I'm fine. What sort of errand is he running?" Fine. Abraxas is always fine. That's the only response he ever gives us. The other day, when he was acting especially un-Abraxas-like, I asked him if something was wrong. He said he was "fine". When he shouted at Cassie for breathing to loudly while we were studying, Tristan asked if he wanted to talk about whatever was going on. He said everything was "fine". When Terry and I teased him about not hooking up with anybody recently during Quidditch practice, he exclaimed that he was "fine" and that we should stop bothering him. Then he said practice was over and we were all "fine".

"He said it would be a quick one." I reply quickly. "Abraxas, you really don't seem like you're—"

"I'm fine." He shouts, cutting me off. Seconds later, he stands up quickly and looks directly at something above my head. I turn in my chair and see Tom approaching the table with a paper bag from a shop I don't recognize.

"Hello Abraxas." Tom says, motioning for Abraxas to sit down again. Abraxas stays standing until Tom sits and I silently try to figure out what the hell is going on with one of my best friends.

It takes me a few minutes to realize that Abraxas and Tom are whispering to each other across the table. They're in their own world, having forgotten that I am even here. Abraxas takes something out of his pocket and slides it across the table to Tom. I don't attempt to read it, even though I really, really want to.

"So, Abraxas, what is this meeting about?" I ask.

"What do you think it's about Ginerva?" Tom answers without looking up from whatever he's reading. Oh that's right. The plan.

"Any new developments?" Abraxas gives me a strange look and Tom sighs.

"Ginny…"

"Can I help in any way? I'm pretty good with plans and such." I offer for what seems like the tenth time in the past few weeks.

"You like clothing, right Ginny?" Tom asks, changing the subject for what seems like the twentieth time in the past few weeks. I sigh and stand up.

"I'll get us drinks."

When I come back to the table with the drinks, Tom and Abraxas are leaning over a piece of paper. I set the drinks down and try to see what they are looking at . . . with no results.

"So, what do you guys think about the whole mess with Grindelwald?" I ask, figuring that politics is a pretty good subject. Tom and Abraxas sit up and stare at me.

"Why don't you go find Cassie, Ginny? Come back in an hour." Once again, breathe. Count to ten, breathe some more. Don't get angry. Tom is in his plan mode. He and Abraxas are discussing their after-Hogwarts business venture, or whatever their plan is. They don't want me interfering and so Tom offered a way out. He's not trying to be a bad boyfriend. Take deep breaths….

I grab my bag and stand up. "I'll be back in an hour."

As I'm walking out of The Three Broomsticks, I reach into my bag to grab a sugar-quill. Except instead of candy, my hand grazes leather. Confused, I hold the bag up to my face and see not my Honeydukes bag, but Tom's mystery bag.

Chuckling about my mistake, I walk back to the table and pick up my bag of candy. Tom and Abraxas are huddled over the paper again. I weigh the pros and cons of peeking, and after a few seconds let my curiosity win. I open the bag and take out Tom's mystery purchase.

Tom looks up.

"Hi, sorry, I grabbed your bag by mistake. This is a nice journal. Leather. Good quality." Tom smiles and for a second, I think maybe, just maybe, things will be okay between us.

Then I make the mistake of really looking at the journal.

The journal is black, and leather. It has crisp paper in it. Not parchment, paper. And written on the cover, carved neatly into the leather, are five little letters.

Diary.

My mind goes numb.

The book falls out of my hands.

I think I stop breathing.

I feel my knees give out and my body begin to fall. There's a commotion somewhere near me and two male voices shout my name. Strong arms catch me and somebody slaps my face. I manage to take a long, shaky breath, and look up at Tom's face.

"Ginny, are you alright?" regaining control over my body, I push myself out of Tom's arms and grab my Honeydukes bag.

"No, I'm not. I have to go back to the castle." Not allowing myself to think, I spin around and rush out of the Three Broomsticks.

* * *

"Ginny!"

I run up the stairs to Hogwarts and rush inside the open entrance doors.

"Ginny!"

I race across the entrance hall and down the stairs to the dungeons.

"Ginerva!"

I sprint down the corridor and scream the password at the portrait.

"Ginerva stop running!"

I hurl myself into the common room and collapse against the back of a couch, breathing heavily. Tom rushes in behind me and I hear him skid to a stop, also panting.

"Ginny, what is wrong with you? Did you not hear me calling your name?" Tom exclaims. "I chased you all the way from Hogsmeade." Oh big whoop.

I lean face-forward over the back of the couch and take an extremely deep breath.

"What happened back there? Are you alright?" That does it.

"Am I alright? Since when do you care if I'm alright?" I shout, pivoting around to face him. Tom stumbles backwards, his expression of shock and pain quickly morphing into anger and confusion.

"I'm your boyfriend, Ginerva. Of course I care if you're alright." He explains in the most patronizing tone he could probably manage.

"Oh I know you're my boyfriend. I just didn't think you knew." I say, too shaken by the diary to care about watching what I say.

"Don't be ridiculous Ginerva!" Tom cries. I throw up my arms.

"Well, I am just SO sorry for being SO ridiculous! I was under the impression that being somebody's boyfriend meant you actually wanted to spend time with them and get to know them! My god I must have been reading the wrong manual because obviously that is just SO ridiculous! Gee, I'm SO sorry for my stupidity and ridiculousness!"

"That is what being somebody's boyfriend means." He shouts, just as loudly as I had shouted my bit. I lean back act as shocked as I know how to.

"It is? Merlin, I guess I should go get examined then! The way I see it, you don't want me to know anything about your life and god forbid you actually spend time with me outside of school things!" I scream.

Thank Merlin that nobody is in the common room right now. This is definitely the biggest fight Tom and I have had to date. I can't even begin to describe how upset I am at this moment. I know I probably don't have any right to be. Tom doesn't know that the diary he just bought will at some point in the future cause me the most pain I have ever felt in my sixteen years.

"Yes, we haven't been the happy couple lately, but things will get better. You agreed yesterday. We would give this relationship more time and things would get better."

I scream in frustration, and clench my fists.

"You actually have to work at a relationship Tom! God Dammit!" I pick up a vase and throw it against the wall, barely even noticing that it smashes. "I don't know anything that's going on with you! You're always with Abraxas, or alone, talking about your plan or putting it in action. Well while you're doing that I'm still here! I try to relate. I try to talk about things with you! But you brush me off or ignore me or tell me to go "find Cassie". I'm your girlfriend Tom! I'm not just the girl you tutor in arithmancy, or the prefect you swap patrols with! While you're chasing immortality I'm still here! I'm right here Tom, waiting for you to realize that and be my boyfriend! And I hate that! I hate waiting!" The light on the side table blows up. It's been a while since I lost control of my magic but I'm not surprised that I finally did now. Tom is staring at me.

"Your turn." I grind out, recognizing that it's Tom's turn to yell at me now, but he just stands there. The silence is almost painful. The threat of not having closure on this fight hangs over me and I'm suddenly embraced in a cold blanket of panic.

"For Merlin's sake, do something Tom! React! Please?" He does nothing but stands still and stares at me.

There is a clatter and the portrait hole swings open. The entire Quidditch team, plus Cassie, rushes in and stops short upon seeing Tom and I, chests heaving.

"How did you find out?" Tom asks almost inaudibly. I try hard to catch my breath, but stand tall.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I answer honestly. In my panic I can't remember what I just said.

"The plan. My plan. How did you figure out what it was?" Tom clarifies, his voice rising. I can't tell if he's angry or scared. My mind races to figure out what he's asking me. His plan. I don't know what his plan is. That was the point. While he's chasing immortality I'm sitting waiting… oh shit.

"I don't know your plan, Tom, that's why we're fighting in the first place. You won't talk to me." All true. I don't know that immortality is his plan. His reaction is a pretty strong confirmation, but I don't know for sure and it will stay that way as long as I can keep it that way. If immortality is his plan then maybe I don't want to know about it.

Tom stares at me, looking straight into my eyes. I try so hard to show him that I don't know his plan. I bring that knowledge to the forefront of my mind. Please believe me Tom.

"Tom?" He tears his gaze away from mine and takes three steps away from me, towards his dormitory.

"Tom!" I call. "This fight isn't over yet! Don't walk away from me, please!" I glance desperately over at my group of friends, still frozen in shock by the portrait hole.

"We can't be in this relationship Ginerva." Tom says softly. I feel my heart skip a beat. "It isn't working. We weren't ready for this."

No. I don't want us to be over. I know last night I did but I don't anymore.

"Tom, please . . ." I beg. And I don't beg, much.

"I'm sorry." Tom whispers. I open my mouth to say something else, but end up choking on the words. I feel a sharp pang in my chest as Tom walks away, into the boy's dormitories. And for the first time since our fight began, I slump onto the couch.

In a flash, the Quidditch team, with Cassie, is by my side. I am bombarded with questions. Everybody's voice, even though they're probably speaking normally, sounds like shouting.

"Are you okay?"

"Ginny, my gods, what happened?"

"Are you alright?"

I close my eyes. Images dance across the closed lids: Tom; The diary; Tom; Us, together, holding hands; the night when we first got together; and his face, as I shouted at him about chasing immortality.

"Ginny?"

I open my eyes to my friends, leaning over me.

"No. I'm not alright."

* * *

**A/N** - I don't expect forgiveness just yet. But chapter 22 is on it's way. And just to show me that maybe, just maybe, in a few millennium I might be able to stop calling myself a frog, a review would be lovely. Again, so sorry. (I am determined to apologize until it gets annoying, and I'm a Gryffindor, so I'm very good at being determined.)

Sorry for the billionth time,

Your humble frog,

OnceUponaWonderland


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N - **Tada! Here's chapter 22! Enjoy!

* * *

"Hey Cassie," I mutter, sinking into the couch next to her. She looks up and smiles a bit too brightly.

"Hi Ginny!" There's shock in her voice. I guess she does have a reason for that. I've kind of been avoiding all life forms for the past week. It's not that I'm hiding. Just because I stay in my room and eat in the kitchens and barely talk to anybody (thank Merlin the Quidditch team can practice in silence), doesn't mean I'm hiding. I just… don't feel like being social because of... somebody not named Tom.

Bloody hell! It's not like I was in love with the guy! This shouldn't be so painful!

"Ginny!" Tristan exclaims in surprise, coming to an abrupt halt when he sees me. "Uh… How are you?" he adds when I glare at him.

"I'm . . ." I swallow hard. "I'm alright I suppose."

Tristan plops down on the couch next to me and I stand up.

"Actually, I was going to ask Cassie if she could help me with some arithmancy homework. I don't understand it at all and since . . . Uh, I'm sort of in need of a new tutor." I choke out, ignoring the prickling behind my eyes. It's dusty in the common room. Yes, the prickling must be allergies and I must be allergic to dust. That's it.

Tom was a bloody awful tutor anyways.

Cassie and Tristan are staring at me as if they're unsure of what to do. Unable to be social anymore, I explain that I'll be in my room, and walk off. I'm barely out of the common room when Cassie rushed past me, heading to the stairs.

"I'm just going to grab my notes, Ginny. I'll be down in just a moment."

I sigh. I haven't spoken more than a sentence or two to my friends all week, and I still don't really want to. They are just going to want to know what happened and why Tom . . . why what happened, happened . . . and I just don't want to talk about it. Hell, I don't even want to think about it.

Two weeks later and I'm still anti-social, though not in the same way as I was before. I have reached the "aggressive" stage of breaking up, or so Cassie says.

Well so what if I sent a stinging hex at an annoying second year once in a while? Did it really matter if I lost some house points for fighting every comment made in every class? It's called being the devil's advocate, really! And it can't be that big a deal if I steal someone's quill and snap it in half to stop them from passing me notes. (Note to self: get Cassie a new quill.)

I guess it was a bad idea, though, to take Kendall's beaters bat during practice ten minutes ago and send a bludger at Terry. To be fair, he was catcalling and leering and talking about how now that I'm single, did I fancy a romp with him? I was sick of it and he deserved it. And really, it's not like he was hurt at all . . .

"Ginny, the aggressiveness is getting out of control. This is the third time you've done something to jeopardize the team." Abraxas is saying. I'm basically ignoring him. "I want this team to be the best. Some teams try to be the best by using violence. In my opinion, if a team wins only after they've knocked out half of the opposition, it's not really a win."

I sigh and shift uncomfortably. "What are you saying, Abe?"

He smiles sadly and suddenly I feel the aggression rising up again. "You're a great chaser, Ginny. But if the behavior doesn't stop, you will."

Furious, I storm out of the changing room and back up to the castle. I'm not mad at Abraxas; he's just being a good captain. I'm mad at myself. It's as if some other being has taken control of my mind! I am acting so stupid! So what if Tom and I broke up? I would have broken up with him if it hadn't been for my damned pride. So why the hell was I so upset by all of this?

I would understand if it was Harry all over again. I mean, if Tom had broken up for me "for my own good", well then I probably would have had to slap somebody. But he hadn't! We weren't ready for this relationship! We both knew that and yet here I was, being immature and hurt by it.

I find Cassie sitting by the fire in the common room and I crash down next to her.

"Cassie . . ." I whine. She reaches out and pulls me into a hug.

"You should talk to Tom." What? "After all, I'm really not supposed to be tutoring you in arithmancy."

"Yeah, okay." I sigh, mentally agreeing that while that was a good reason, I really just needed to get close to him again. The whole point of me being in this time was to stop him from becoming Lord Voldemort, right? Well I couldn't very well do that if we weren't on speaking terms.

* * *

I finally managed to get up the courage to talk to Tom about a week ago. I simply explained that it was in his best interest to tutor me, and in my best interest to have a tutor. And then, when that didn't work, I threatened him.

"_Dumbledore's the real power in this school, Riddle, and you know it. But Dumbledore doesn't like you too much does he? He thinks you're up to something. Well I know you're up to something, and I even know part of what that something is. But here's the best part; Dumbledore loves me." I whisper menacingly. Tom's eyes flash and he pulls me aside._

"_What do you want Peverell?" He hisses, already obviously hating every second of being the one without the power._

"_I want a real arithmancy tutor." I growl. _

"_Fine."_

"_And I want us to be friends." I finish, less angrily. Tom looks at me for a long time before replying. _

"_Yes. I believe I want that too."_

Today is Halloween. I've had one much-improved arithmancy tutoring session since I spoke with Tom, and though he isn't the best of friends, he hasn't been giving me the cold shoulder and I haven't been avoiding him (or anybody else). My aggressive stage is over (thank Merlin!) and I'm increasingly social. Unfortunately, my social abilities did not extend past the feast earlier tonight.

In typical Slytherin fashion (or so I've been told), the entire house has been invited to a massive party in the common room. Because today is a Sunday, 3rd years and under are being sent to bed after curfew and only then will the alcohol make an appearance. Considering it is an hour past curfew, little kids are still trying to stick around, and the cup in my hand is still only holding butterbeer, I'm assuming the plan was not thought through.

Cassie dragged me onto the dance floor earlier, where I stayed for half a song. I wandered over to a couch near the beverages table and haven't moved since.

"Hey Abe." I say quietly as he sits down next to me. We sit in silence for a long time, ignoring the blast of music and the calls of people around the room.

"I've been getting letters from my father." I look over at my friend. Abraxas is sitting stiffly on the other side of the couch. He's looking at his shoes, but there's no mistaking that he was talking to me.

"What did you say, Abe?" I ask cautiously. He sighs and looks around the common room full of classmates who wished they were drunk and a select few who were really embarrassed that they were.

"I'm not fine. I've been getting letters from my father and . . . it's hard to explain." I perk up instantly. This is good. This is what we've been waiting for weeks to find out. Don't stop talking now Abraxas!

"Explain it to the best of your abilities then. I'll do my best to understand." I urge.

"That's it though." Abraxas sighs again and runs a hand through his hair. "I know you all care and want to help, but I really don't think there's anything you all could do."

"Would you be willing to let me read the letters?" I ask, and then immediately continue so that Abraxas can't respond yet. "I know I've only known you for a few months, and I don't know your family so I probably won't fully understand."

"Your reading the letters won't help me any." He interrupts, dejectedly. I frown. The war in no way could be called a good thing, but it certainly has given all of us some pretty handy skills. I scoot over on the couch and pull my legs up underneath me.

"I'm not going to push you, but know that while I may not understand fully and I may have to imagine, I am damn good at making plans and finding loopholes and striking back if need be. I can help you and by the looks of it, you need help. Please let me read the letters."

I wait in silence for what seems like forever. Abraxas sits, expression unchanging, until I feel as if I am about to burst from the tension. This is my best friend who could be in danger. My mind went into war mode and it's not coming out until whatever is hurting my friend is stopped.

"The letters are in my room." Abraxas whispers. It takes me a second or two to process what he said and I have to hurry after him into the boys dormitories. We walk briskly down the corridor and he looks around before opening his door and quickly ushering me in. I hear the door close behind me and Abraxas walks past and over to his desk. When he turns to face me again, there's only one piece of parchment in his hand.

"You really only need to read the one."

I reach out. My hand pauses for a split second over his. When I look up, Abraxas' eyes are hardened and determined. I take a breath and grab the letter. Taking another breath, I sit down on the bed. I feel a dip next to me and know that Abe has sat down as well.

"It received the first letter just before Quidditch practice, on the first day I ended practice early. You remember." Of course I remember! How could I not remember that day? Aside from all of the other drama that had been going on in my life, Abraxas ending a practice session early had been a bigger shock than catching McGonagall helping Peeves terrorize the school back in 4th year!

It was starting to make sense, then. Abraxas was acting differently because his father must have threatened him. Malfoy money, no matter the time period, had to be a big deal. If I didn't know for a fact that Tom Riddle hadn't started the death eaters (because the only person he actually spent time with was Abraxas), I would have compared Abe's situation to what Harry thinks Draco's is. Except, I highly doubt Draco is being forced to be a Death Eater.

With a quick glance at Abraxas, I unfold the letter.

_Abraxas,_

_Despite my warnings, you have not yet done what is expected of you. This lack of obedience is astonishing. I have been informed that not only have you not done as asked, but the opposite._

_Therefore, I have decided to take matters into my own hands. The Yaxely family will be staying at our manor this Christmas holiday. You will come home on the train with Virginia and Roderick and will be picked up at Kings Cross by myself and Sigmund Yaxely. If you are not on the train when it arrives, a house elf will collect you wherever you may be. On Christmas Eve, a ball will be held at our manor in honor of the holiday. At this ball you will announce your engagement to Virginia Yaxely._

_If I find that you have in any way disobeyed me, you will be sorely punished._

_You have until Christmas to prove yourself worthy of your inheritance._

_Do not incur my wrath._

_Signed,_

_Your father_

I look up at Abraxas in wonder. "Why the hell haven't you proposed yet?"

He sighs again and looks up at the ceiling. "I really wish they had brought the alcohol in already." I laugh lightly, completely in agreement.

"Well?" I don't understand why he won't just propose to Virginia. It's not like he doesn't like her, or she wouldn't make a good wife. She was just gorgeous enough to be a Malfoy, and she wasn't a total idiot either. He'll have to marry her eventually and if his father wants him to get engaged now, then I didn't see the problem. "I don't see the problem, Abe."

He turns and glares at me. "I know you don't. I know I'll have to eventually, but I just can't propose to her right now."

"But why—," But I can't finish my question. My mouth is suddenly silenced by another pair of lips, and my body becomes crushed up against his. After a second Abraxas pulls away.

"Oh. That's why." I rationalize, breathless. Abraxas smiles warmly, holding me tight.

"Yes. That's why." And then we're kissing again.

* * *

**A/N **- Woah! How many of you saw that coming? Reviews are wonderful and I love them, so review please!

~onceuponawonderland


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N** - This chapter was very important to the story and so I wanted to get it just right. I still don't think I accomplished that, but the chapter needed to get up. Enjoy!

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Abraxas' POV (slight recap of 22)

I sit rigidly while Ginny reads the last letter my father had sent to me. I don't know why I'm letting her read it.

"Why the hell haven't you proposed yet?" I look up at Ginny in shock. What? Oh Merlin. She thinks I should just go ahead and propose to Virginia. I know I'll have to do it eventually; we're betrothed and if I want my inheritance, she has to become my wife. But I can't propose to her yet. I'm not a "commitment" kind of guy. I look morosely up at the ceiling and sigh for what seems like the hundredth time tonight.

"I really wish they had brought the alcohol in already." Ginny laughs lightly. She has a great laugh.

"Well?" I look back at Ginny. "I don't see what the problem is Abe."

Of course she doesn't. Of all people Tristan might be able to understand where I'm coming from the most. But even then, Tristan isn't lined up to be married. And even if he was, Tristan is good with that sort of thing. He's all about "long-lasting relationships" and commitment. Merlin Ginny just doesn't get it. I shouldn't have let her read the letter.

I turn and glare at her. I shouldn't be glaring. It's not her fault she couldn't possibly understand why I can't commit to Virginia. She doesn't realize that she's every guy's dream, dangling over me like one giant "HAHA," mocking the fact that by Christmas, I will have lost my chances.

"I know you don't. I know I'll have to eventually, but I just can't propose to her right now." I explain, because she's giving me a weird look.

She opens her mouth to speak again. Something inside of me flares up.

"But why-" She starts to say. Bloody hell woman! I do the only thing I know how to do (plus, I think my brain was acting the victim in a hostile takeover involving my hormones). I grab her around the waist, pull her across the bed to me, and kiss her.

Maybe I shouldn't have kissed her. She's really just getting over Tom. Damn. I shouldn't have kissed her.

I pull away lightly and look at her. Before I can open my mouth to apologize though, she lets out a little giggle and blushes. I smile.

"Oh. That's why." She whispers breathily. Well, well, well. Then again, maybe her lack of response was just shock. I smile.

Ginny is something else. Really, I don't think there is anybody else like her.

"Yes. That's why."

I let go of her waist with one hand and reach it up to rub my thumb across her lips.

"I can't do commitment, Ginny." I whisper, my mind screaming at me to just shut up and snog her. Ginny smiles.

"I never said I was looking for commitment." Those words go straight to my… well not my brain, let's just say that. My heart starts to beat really fast and I look into Ginny's eyes. Oh sweet merlin…

And she's not even drunk!

"I can't marry you. I'm not going to shower you with flowers and tell you how much I love you." I say, no longer whispering. I have to make sure this isn't going to backfire and bite me in the arse.

Ginny smirks. "You're treating this like a business deal, Abe."

Oh no. Fix it Abraxas; make her feel… I don't know. Wanted!

"I need you." I say, but it comes out as more of a question. Shit. Ginny throws her head back and laughs. Ugh, what have I done?

"Abraxas, please, spare me. I understand. You need one last night with someone other than your fiancée. You don't want to give up on other girls just yet." Merlin's pants this girl is an angel! Raising one eyebrow, I lean forward and capture her lips in a kiss. In seconds I feel her arms slide around my neck and she shifts her weight so that her front is pressed up against mine and she's practically sitting on my lap. Oh hell.

I snake my arms around her waist and pull her even closer, if possible. She parts her lips without me even having to ask, and I feel her tongue start to dance around mine. Fuck.

I run my hands up and down her back and slowly move them up underneath her shirt. Just as I reach the clasp of her bra, I move my hands back down to her hips. Ginny breaks away and stares at me.

"I'm not fragile Abe." Of course she's not! Why the hell does she assume I think she's fragile? I guess I look a bit bewildered because she heaves a great sigh and suddenly her shirt is off. Wow.

"You're beautiful." I speak without thinking, but my god it's true. I reach out, pulling her back into me and realize for the first time that my shirt is no longer on my body. Flesh meets flesh and I let out a moan. Virginia was never this bold.

"I don't need sweet words either Malfoy." Ginny hisses. Her cold hands push against my chest and I'm thrown onto my back. Something sparkles in Ginny's eyes and she leans over me. Her red hair falls like a curtain around her and as she leans in to kiss me, it tickles my arm. "All I need is you, this bed, and a couple of hours."

Oh bloody hell.

* * *

Ginny's POV

If you asked me if I regret doing that with Abraxas, I would answer "no." If you asked me what was going through my mind just before it happened, I wouldn't answer, because I honestly can't remember. If you asked me to rationalize my behavior with Abraxas, I wouldn't want to.

All I know now, laying next to Abraxas on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, was that we both needed it. I don't think I need any other reason.

I wiggle a little bit on the bed until my head is resting on Abe's shoulder. "What're you thinking about?" I ask quietly. He sighs and turns his head. Our eyes lock and he smiles.

"You."

It's my turn to smile. "What about me?" I ask. Abraxas asks and turns onto his side so that were can look right at each other.

"I'm thinking that you are so sure of everything you do. You grab life by its proverbial horns and never let go. I don't know how you do it, but somehow, you make everything seem possible." I blush.

I don't think anyone has ever said anything like that to me. I guess it's true though. I don't think that everything is possible, but I do believe that if you really want something you can make it happen.

"You need to propose to Virginia, Abe. And you can't wait until Christmas." I say in response. Abraxas sighs and rolls over so that he is once again staring at the ceiling.

"I know."

I sit up and look down at my friend. "But you need to do it on your terms. I said I'm good at finding loopholes. I found one." Abraxas suddenly sits bolt upright, staring at me and gawking like a fish. I laugh. "Close your mouth Abe, it's unattractive."

He does, but it's open again in a millisecond. "What do you mean "on my terms"? What loophole is there? There isn't a loophole! I checked!"

"Well it's not so much of a loophole as it is a way to make things go in your favor." I start, but the glare Abe is sending me sparks me into getting to the point. "Talk to Virginia. Tell her the reason you have waited so long to propose was because you wanted to give her the chance to be sure she wants you. Explain that you would give her the ring at that moment, but you would like to do things the right way. Arrange to go to Hogsmeade with her at the end of the month. Abraxas, you have to actually date her! Treat this as if she's not already fixed to marry you. Buy her jewelry, leave her flowers, and take her on dates. Give her the ring Christmas morning. Wrap it up and put it under the tree. It will be romantic, and your families will be there. The mothers will love it."

At the end of my huge explanation, Abraxas is still staring at me as if I'm insane.

"Did you hear anything I just said Abe?" Abraxas seems to snap out of a trance and glares at me.

"Yes I heard you! Please explain how any of that is going to make things turn out in my favor!" He shouts. I roll my eyes and lay down on the bed, content in the knowledge that my friend's life if about to get a whole lot better.

"If Virginia knows that you're trying to be a man, she'll be a whole lot more willing to . . . be a woman . . . if you know what I mean?" I turn and look up at his confused face. "Abraxas, use your brain. You won't have to wait until parties with alcohol to get her to loosen up! If she knows you're going to make her your wife and be a good husband . . ."

Realization dawns on Abe's face and his eyes light up in pleasure.

"Ginny, you are a genius!" He shouts, pulling me up and throwing his arms around me. "You are brilliant! Do you really think it will work? If it does I will buy you whatever you want. Do you want a new broom? I'll buy you a new broom."

I laugh as Abraxas continues to hug me like there is no tomorrow. "Ginny, you are amazing! I love you!"

"WHAT?" I spin around, and my stomach drops.

"Tom…"

"IS THIS WHY THINGS DIDN'T WORK BETWEEN US? You made me believe it was my fault! I thought you were right! I thought that I simply didn't understand what being in a relationship truly meant!" Tom stands in the doorway to Abe's room, positively shaking with anger. "I didn't realize that you were just comparing me with Malfoy!"

Tom turns and storms out of the room. Did I mention Abe and I are dressed in our underwear? No? Oops.

"TOM!" I shout, jumping off the bed and clambering to get dressed. "TOM WAIT!"

When I'm decently clothed, I run after Tom. Luckily for me, the hallway is long and I catch him just as he's about to enter the common room.

"Tom, stop!" I beg, grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face me. "Let me explain."

"Explain that you cheated on me? With the one person I consider a friend?" That surprises me, and it's obvious that Tom hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Nothing – Tom listen to me –nothing happened between Abraxas and me while you and I were dating."

Tom glares at me, and I'm suddenly thankful that looks can't kill (unless you're a basilisk).

"I don't even know why we broke up, Tom. I wanted to stick with it and make it work. We can make it work, Tom! I'm sure of it! I don't know why you decided we couldn't." I say softly. Again, I know I was under the impression that we couldn't handle it just a few hours before the breakup, but dammit I was wrong! We're both stubborn, determined beings and IF YOU WANT SOMETHING YOU CAN MAKE IT HAPPEN!

"We broke up because—" Tom starts strongly but doesn't finish his sentence. I raise an eyebrow at him. "We broke up because . . . because we . . ." He trails off and looks into my eyes for the first time since we started fighting weeks ago.

"We broke up because we were fighting and that we were over was the only thing left to say. Neither of us can remember why because neither of us actually had a reason." I finish. Tom's gaze softens and he opens his mouth. I loosen my grip on his arm because it seems like he is going to apologize. But then his eyes change color again and his gaze hardens.

"No. We broke up because you knew a part of my plan. How did you know a part of my plan?" He demands, his voice strong but scared.

My mind races to think up an answer. I had been thinking a lot about his "plan" recently. Tom was chasing immortality. That much I knew (the trio had hinted and Tom had confirmed). And now that I knew that much, I had assumed that the rest of his plan was what I had come from—the war. To take control of the wizarding world and purge it of all who were unfit to have magic (what would be his words, not mine).

"I just knew, Tom. Nobody told me and I didn't do anything to figure it out. When we were fighting… somehow I just knew."

I could tell that Tom didn't want to accept my answer. It was clear that he thought I was lying. So I said the only thing I could think to say.

"You have to trust me, Tom. I am not the enemy. If you want to make this relationship thing work, you have to just trust me." I plead. Tom sighs and shakes his arm free from my grasp.

"I don't trust people easily. You have to earn my trust." Tom says, as if that is a good enough answer.

"I am your girlfriend. That is enough to earn your trust." I growl.

Tom laughs. "Who said you were my girlfriend again?" He's mocking me. I growl again.

"I said so."

"And—" Glaring, I grab him around the collarbone and pull his face down towards mine. I raise up on my toes to get closer.

"Shut up and kiss me." I murmur, my face just centimeters away from his.

"I'm not myself with you Ginny." He whispers against my lips.

"Yes you are. You are Tom. I like Tom. It's this Voldemort chap I'm not too fond of." Tom pulls back and stares at me. "Don't ask questions. Accept that I know and move on. Trust that I am not the enemy."

"I haven't forgiven you. Or Malfoy." Tom says quietly, pressing his forehead against mine.

"There's nothing to forgive either of us for. We did nothing wrong. So drop it." I smirk and wrap my arms around his neck.

"I believe I asked you to kiss me, Tom." I whisper. Tom smiles. I love his smile.

"I believe you did." And with that my wish is granted. For a few blissful moments, I know everything will be okay.

* * *

**A/N** - Sooooo? What do you think! Tell me! Tell me!


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N - **Okay so I know I haven't updated this in way beyond forever and I am very sorry. This is a really long chapter though (compared to my other ones) so hopefully that makes up for it a little bit. I do have my reasons though... mainly I just had incredible writers block. And every time I started to get over it I would look at what I had so far for the chapter and freak out and get writers block all over again. But anyways, after months and months, I finally told myself to suck it up and not get up from my computer until I finished the chapter. Luckily, it worked!

That said, it has been forever since I have written anything for this story and I wanted to get the chapter posted ASAP, so I haven't gotten anybody to look over it yet and I haven't really looked over it myself either. SO. If anyone seems out of character or if something plot-wise seems off or is misunderstood just let me know by reviewing or sending me a private message and I'll try to fix the mistake either in the next few chapters or by doing an edit.

Also, speaking of edits... In order to be able to write this chapter I went back and read everything else I've written for this story (that is, the previous 23 chapters) and I noticed some mistakes or some things that I had corrected on my computer but hadn't corrected on the website. I don't really want to focus on those now, because I want to focus on finishing this story first. But if you find a major error (not really spelling or grammar errors because those are minor things I can fix later) let me know via review or private message and I'll make a note in the next chapter that it will be fixed in an edit and explain what it should be. After I finish the story I'll try and go back and revise/edit and upload an edited version.

Okey dokey. I think that's all the news for now. I'm going to try and upload chapter 25 soon but I haven't written it yet and only have a vague idea of what is going to happen in it right now. Hopefully it will be up by the end of the week but I can't make any promises.

I don't think I really need a disclaimer because you all know JKR's brilliance isn't mine.

Thank you very much if you've stuck with me, or at least, kept your faith in me.

Here's chapter 24. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 24**

"So . . ." Tristan starts, plopping down onto the couch next to me.

"So?"

He sighs. I wait patiently and watch as he opens his mouth to speak, closes his mouth, opens it again, and closes it for a second time. I resist the urge to laugh, because, quite frankly, he looks like a fish. Finally, Tristan gets up and walks away. I shake my head and chuckle.

I know I should tell him; he is one of my best friends and it's obviously killing him to know what happened. So far today he has cornered me eleven times, never once managing to say anything more than "so," or "Ginny," or something that sounded vaguely like "shmugaighumegn". Cassie doesn't know either, but that's because she ate something funky at the party last night (not elf-made, obviously) and has been puking and sleeping off-and-on all day.

Everyone knows that something major happened though. Abraxas apparently talked to Virginia this morning before breakfast and sent her flowers during her second class. During lunch he whispered a quick "thank you" in my ear before walking off with his future wife. As it always does at Hogwarts, the news spread quickly that I had played a part in getting Abraxas and Virginia back together. A Gryffindor was currently collecting bets about how long it would last (I convinced myself that betting the whole pot that they'd be engaged by New Years was a bad idea, or at least cheating).

My old roommates (aside from Cassie) had suddenly, after weeks of basically ignoring my presence, decided to come visit me in my prefect room before dinner. No matter how hard they tried to get information out of me, I refused to explain my role in the "match-making" and they went back to ignoring me within the hour.

But of course, the biggest piece of gossip was also the biggest mystery. Tom and I got to breakfast at around the same time and, ignoring the gaggle of Slytherins surrounding me, sat across from one another. Tom and I found ourselves seated amongst the 7th year Slytherins and shared a smirk.

"What are you doing during your free period?" he asked me quietly, barely heard over the roar of the Great Hall. I shrugged.

"I don't know. Why?"

Tom gestured vaguely with his hand. "I haven't done the arithmancy homework yet and I was thinking that maybe I could help you with yours."

I laughed loudly before realizing that Tom probably wasn't trying to be funny. Oops.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and avoided his gaze. "Um . . . sure. Thanks, Tom."

Abraxas, seated a few seats away from Tom, sent me a weird look.

Obviously, the word spread that "Tom and Ginny made up" and Tristan had been trying to ask me about it all day.

Five, four, three, two, one . . .

"Ginny I just . . . I need . . ." Again, I wait patiently for Tristan to find the words he'd been struggling for every time he saw me.

"I have . . ." He sighs. I shake my head; here it comes.

"Shmeegalheim?" He squeaks softly. I burst out laughing as Tristan sits dejectedly down on the couch across from the one I am sitting on. Tristan sighs again before jumping up, shocking me so much that I stop laughing and look up at him, concerned.

"Now, I am one of your dearest friends, or so I'd like to think. So damn it Ginny, you know what I want to know! Just tell me if you and Tom are back together!"

I swallow, still beyond shocked at his outburst. "We are."

Seeming somewhat satisfied, Tristan sits back down and nods. The common room, which had grown quiet, is once again filled with the (somewhat) soft noises of people studying and playing games. I take one last concerned look at Tristan before closing my history of magic book and packing it back into my now partially-decorated Hogwarts bag.

"Are you okay?" I ask, standing up from the couch with my bag. Tristan nods.

"I'm fine." He answers flatly. I don't believe him, not really, but I think he'll be okay. He's probably just frustrated and upset (though I can't figure out exactly why). I sigh and hoist my bag higher up on my shoulder. I have a tutoring session with Tom in ten minutes and knowing me, it will take me exactly that long to get to the library.

"Alright, well, I'll see you later then." I say, standing still for a moment longer to wait for a reply—one that doesn't come. Confused and concerned I start to walk away.

"Ginny?" Thank Merlin! I spin around to face my friend, who is now sitting up straighter on the couch.

"Yes?"

"I know you probably don't want to tell me what happened last night, and even though right now I really want to know, after I hear it I'll probably wish I hadn't found out. So I'm going to be a friend and not ask you to tell me, but if you want to, I'll be there to listen. And… well, please don't forget that we're all here for you and that we're you're friends. No matter what is going on, it really sucks to have to find out through the rumor mill. Okay? Okay."

I smile to myself as Tristan gets up, gives me a hug, and walks calmly if a little but more quickly than usual out of the common room, I'm assuming, to go toward his dormitory.

"Ginerva? Ginny?" I wake up with a jolt and stay silent for a moment while my head clears.

"Are you okay?" Tom asks, peering up from over the stack of arithmancy books. I nod. "Can we resume your tutoring then? Did you catch half of what I explained two minutes ago or were you asleep then as well?"

"What?" I ask. I had been tuning him out; obviously, no matter how attracted I was to him every other moment of the day when he talked about arithmancy I could still ignore him.

"You have a test tomorrow Ginerva!" Tom exclaims, gesturing to the books that were supposed to be helping me learn.

I shake my head. "We've been at this for three hours, Tom. It's hopeless."

Tom shuts one of the tombs. It makes a loud thud noise and dust rises out of it. When the coughing subsides and I can see Tom clearly we move the book to the side.

"You're not getting it because you don't think you can and you don't want to. It's all about mentality. Here." Tom opens the next book and starts to pick out a problem for me to try.

I sigh. "So you're telling me as long as I don't like arithmancy, I won't be able to understand it."

Tom copies a few more questions onto a piece of parchment and pushes it over to me. "Basically, yes."

"Great. I'll never understand arithmancy!" Fed up, I stand up forcefully, grab my cloak off the back of the chair, and snatch up my bag.

"Ginerva, sit down."

"What's the point? This tutoring crap isn't helping!" I sigh, closing my eyes. I hate not being able to understand or do something. When I can't understand or do something, I feel like I'm not good enough, which, as the youngest and only girl of seven, is a really bad feeling.

At least before, in the 90's, I didn't have to take arithmancy. My mind just doesn't work that way and I'm not about to subject myself willingly to something that will make me feel inferior.

"Ginerva," My eyes flash open. Tom is standing behind me. Really, really close behind me. "Please sit back down. You can tell me what about arithmancy you don't understand and, if you'll remain awake this time, I can try and help. Ginerva?"

I am so going against my better judgment here…..

An hour (and a really big headache) later, I storm back into the common room, fling my bag onto the ground and hurl myself onto the same couch that I had been sitting on before my tutoring session. I hear the portrait close behind me.

"Oh why even bother?" I groan. "I'm going to fail no matter what."

I hate arithmancy. There is officially nothing in this world that causes me greater pain than arithmancy. The problems do not make sense in my mind, nothing anybody says to try and help me sticks, and Dippet keeps dangling that failing grade in my face like it's a bone in front of a dog. Okay, so everything but that last one. Though still I swear Dippet hates me.

"Ginerva stop this nonsense." I sigh. My test is tomorrow morning! Why won't he just accept that I'm never going to understand this? Without turning over (or taking my face out of the pillow it is currently buried in, for that matter) I grumble a reply at Tom.

"Go away."

"Ginerva, you're quitting. Do not be a quitter." He answers. There is way too much of a condescending tone in his voice and I don't like it. I am not quitting; arithmancy and I were at war but the math problems were better fighters than my brain and I lost. I am a loser, which is very different than a quitter. I explain this to Tom. He responds by picking me up off the couch and standing me up in front of him.

"Ginerva, do not be ridiculous. We will try again tomorrow after your test and we will see what we can do. I refuse to allow my girlfriend to fail a class. Now go to bed and get some rest—I'm sure you'll need it for tomorrow." Tom takes my chin in his hand and pulls my face to meet his. "You can pass arithmancy. By my word I say you will pass arithmancy."

I'm mostly successful in stifling a giggle. Being called his girlfriend made me way more excited than it should have, considering how long it lasted last time. Therefore it takes me a second to register the rest of what he said. Then I'm not so excited. Tom's arrogance can do many things for him in life but I highly doubt getting me to pass the devil's class is one of them. I push up on my toes to give him a light kiss.

"Goodnight, Tom." I say, somewhat sarcastically.

"Goodnight, Ginerva." He replies, sounding just as exasperated as I am.

"Hey, Ginny?"

"Yes?" I spin around, thinking I might actually want to talk to the person calling my name. When I see that it's Virginia standing behind me I turn back around, but Tom is already heading into the boy's dormitory and I have no choice but to go back to facing Virginia. "What do you want?"

No answer.

I sigh, and tell myself to be nice. "What is it, Virginia?" She shuffles back and forth a little bit and looks around as if avoiding something or somebody. Finally, she gestures to the girls' dormitory. Sighing again loudly, I pick up my bag and with a clipped "let's go" lead the way to my room.

Virginia walks in, taking in her surroundings with a mix of awe and disgust (my dirty work-out clothes are still in heap on the floor from the other day). The thud of my bag hitting the floor causes her to jump and she turns to face me.

"I wanted to apologize."

"What?" Whoa! I definitely did not see that one coming.

* * *

**Abraxas's POV**

So far things with Virginia are going well. Sure it's only been a day but her reactions (I got a goodnight kiss and she agreed to go to Hogsmeade with me) are showing definite improvement and great potential! Ginny is a genius.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Come in!" I shout towards whoever is waiting on the other side of my door. I finish up a letter to my father in which I explain my plan, and claim it had been my plan from the beginning, as the door opens. I hear footsteps and the door closing before I turn around. I ran through a mental list of who it could be when I heard the knocking and figured it would be some first-year needing something or another.

"Abraxas?" the voice, although somewhat timid, is definitely not one of the first-year I was expecting. I spin around in my desk chair, trying and failing to conceal my surprise.

"Tom! What are you doing here?" When he doesn't answer and instead looks sheepishly at the floor, I offer him a seat and sit across from it on my bed.

"Sit down, Tom, please."

Might as well conduct myself as I would with anyone else, right? Last night with Ginny had been exactly what I needed, but I'd heard some rumors that she had made up with Tom and I really didn't want to ruin it for her any more than I already had. After he caught us last night (well, he didn't so much catch us as much as he found us basking in the afterglow…) I figured I would leave them to it; my presence, whether they were fighting or not, would not have made anything better. I was shocked enough as it was that Tom sought me out and wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. Luckily, he spoke before I had too much time to think about it.

"I don't want to know what happened between you two last night." I nod. "That's a lie. I really, really want to know what happened, but I'm not going to ask because I want to make this relationship work. My relationship with Ginny, I mean. If it can't then I suppose it will end on its own eventually but for now I'd like to give it a chance. Knowing the details of last night will upset me. I don't want to be angry at either of you."

There's a brief silence, giving me the impression that I'm supposed to say something. "Are you sure?" I ask, then deciding that was the wrong thing to say I quickly rephrase, "I think that's fine. That's good. Okay."

Tom looks up at me, his face emotionless. "I brought the diary."

He brought the . . . oh! Weeks ago, when Tom and Ginny broke up, a bunch of people asked me what had happened. After all, they knew that I had been meeting with Tom at the Three Broomsticks and that their fight had basically started because of that meeting. Only problem was, nobody was supposed to know about the plan (which meant they couldn't know about the diary). And even if I could tell people what had happened I wouldn't. I could tell from the way he was acting right now, glancing furtively at the bag Ginny had so disastrously looked into that he knew that diary had started their fight. I don't know why, but the diary had really freaked Ginny out. Maybe Tom had guessed, and I wasn't going to mention anything if he hadn't, but I thought for a while that Ginny had somehow recognized it as what we were about to turn it into and had figured out the plan.

"Are you ready?" I ask, almost afraid of the answer. This was it. Our plan was finally being set in motion.

Tom nods. "Let's go."

* * *

**Tom's POV**

Abraxas and I gather all the materials we need from his room (I've collected everything from mine already). When we have everything, Abraxas asks if I'm ready.

For a split second, I'm thrown off guard. Am I ready? Not only were we about to perform some very serious, possibly very dangerous magic, but I know that somehow the diary I am now holding was responsible for a lot of my relationship problems. Would going through with this step of the plan throw things even further off balance? She had recognized it somehow. That day, in the Three Broomsticks, she had recognized the diary and ran. I told myself to ignore her fear, that she wasn't the enemy (as she had said last night) and that I had nothing to worry about. I convinced myself that I could still prepare to be Lord Voldemort while being a (somewhat) normal teenage boy.

I glance at Abraxas. Am I ready? Yes. We can do this.

I nod. "Let's go."

* * *

**Ginny's POV**

"_I wanted to apologize." _

"_What?" Whoa! I definitely did not see that one coming._

"I wanted to say that I was sorry for the way I've been treating you. I've been jealous and just plain mean as a result." Virginia practically whispers.

"You were jealous?" I ask, because that's all I can think to say in response.

"I was. I was infuriated that you had become so popular when everything you were doing should have made you the weird new girl. I couldn't stand that I've been trying to win Abraxas's heart for years and after a day of being here you had stolen him from me. Everyone loves you Ginny. I hated that."

I can't believe this. Virginia actually seems…. Sincere.

"So you thought that by telling everyone I was a whorish man-wannabe you could win Abe back?" Can you blame me for being angry? I mean, this girl was most likely responsible for all the bad rumors about me and probably some of the awful that I had yet to hear. Well at least she has the mind to apologize.

"I thought that by making people see that you were acting… unfavorably I could change you. Make you act like a proper lady. The kind of lady that deserves to be a Malfoy. I thought that if he didn't want me, the least I could do was make sure his parents wouldn't kill him for wanting you."

Sweet Merlin's saggy underpants…. This girl is…. She's…..

She's crying. Damn. I walk quickly across my room to where Virginia is standing and trying to hide her tears.

"Virginia…." I start, but don't quite know how to finish. After all, her name is long enough as it is! "Nia, may I call you Nia?" Well I guess a nickname is as way as any to continue.

The tears stop momentarily and a surprised Virginia stares at me. "I-I suppose. My family used to call me Ginny but Nia is nice." Plus two Ginnys would get really confusing, I say to myself, trying not to laugh at how odd that would be.

"Well Nia, you've been simply foul to me," I say, which starts a new round of tears and leads to me guiding Virginia to my bed. Once we're both seated I continue, "But I understand why and I forgive you."

"You…. You do?"

I sigh. Call me a Hufflepuff but I can't let this girl cry her eyes out when, in her crazy, bitchy way, she was just trying to be nice.

"You love him, don't you?" I ask, feeling very sorry for this teary-eyed Slytherin. She nods and then giggles when she hiccups. Well then I suppose I'll just have to try damn hard to make sure Abraxas loves her too eventually. Wait… when did I start caring about Virginia Yaxley's happiness? Ew.

"He told me what you did for him." He did? "He said you helped him settle things with his father and that you talked to him about making amends with me. He was really worried that he had been too much of a jerk to me and that I wouldn't take him back. I wanted to apologize but I also wanted to thank you for convincing him that all he needed to do was show me that he's changed."

Oh right… of course Abe wouldn't tell his future wife about last night. Not that it wasn't amazing it just wasn't the kind of thing you tell your future wife about. Or your boyfriend, now that I really think about it. Yikes! I hope Tom doesn't ask….

"Ginny? Did you hear what I said." She said something? Crap.

"Um… sorry, no. I spaced out for a second there." I reply honestly. Virginia (Nia now, I guess) giggles.

"I was saying that I think you and Riddle make a really cute couple. I know I made a big stink before about you and Tristan but I can see now that you and Riddle are great for each other. You didn't know him very well before, obviously, but it was like he was trying to be somebody he's not. Like he was trying to grow up too quickly. I think you're just what he needs. Since you've been here he's been acting much more like a teenager. I think he's finally starting to be himself." I think about that while she pauses. "Well I have a lot of homework to do, so I guess I'll see you at breakfast."

I smile as I walk Virginia the few steps to my door. "I hope it works for you two. Really, no sabotage this time." This time I actually laugh. If I didn't know any better I'd say Virginia and I just made ourselves a truce.

"Thanks, Nia. That means a lot to me." And it really does too! If what she said is true and Tom is acting differently now that I'm here, maybe that means I really can change my future! Maybe I can keep him from becoming Lord Voldemort.

* * *

Thank you very much!

Read and Review Please.

~onceuponawonderland


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N** - I know this chapter has taken waaaayyy too long to get uploaded. My life is a lot less insane now than it has been for the past few months though so the next few chapters should be coming shortly. I hope you all have stuck with me and I hope you enjoy chapter 25.

**Disclaimer**– I'm not JKR. Anything that is hers is hers, not mine. Anything that is mine is mine but wouldn't exist without her genius as an inspiration. So there you have it and enjoy Chapter 25.

* * *

"Excuse me?"

I look up from the book I've been reading—some romance novel series that Cassie loves and unfortunately, has gotten me hooked on—only to see one of the last people I'd expect to see in the Slytherin common room.

"Minerva! How did you get in here?" I ask, stunned. She looks at me with the same annoyed expression I often saw on Percy. I guess I had asked a stupid question.

"I'm head girl, Ginny. I know the passwords to all of the common rooms." Now how the heck was I supposed to know that? Oh well. "Anyways I came in here to ask you a favor. It's rather embarrassing—I really should I double checked my schedule farther in advance—I'm supposed to patrol tonight but I completely forgot that I'd arranged a meeting with Professor Dippet…"

She trailed off. Well I guess over-booking her schedule would be something McGonagall would be embarrassed over. Hermione is the same way.

"I can cover your patrol, if that's what you need." I suggest. McGonagall breathes a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh that would be wonderful, Ginny, thank you! You're not too busy are you? I know there's some big paper due for your Transfiguration class soon." I shake my head. I've already written most of the paper and what still has to be done can wait another day. "I will make this up to you I promise."

I laugh and stand up. "I'm sure you will. I suppose I'll just go change back into my uniform. Have a nice meeting." McGonagall utters out a few more thank you-s and rushes out of the common room, ignoring the glares some Slytherins gave her on the way out. Rolling my eyes I head to my room to change, trying to suppress a very un-Slytherin-like smile. Tom was scheduled to patrol tonight and we hadn't had much time over the past two weeks for alone time (other than the tutoring sessions, during which Tom obnoxiously refused to even hold hands). Tonight should be fun.

* * *

The hallways are quiet tonight, which is nice. Tom and I caught one student out a while ago but it wasn't a big deal and we sent him on his way without any problems. Tom and I had therefore spent the last hour or so just holding hands and talking quietly. Somewhat like the first night we patrolled together (during the good part, I mean), we just tried to learn more about each other.

He asked me about Quidditch—we beat Ravenclaw last week in the first official game of the season and were set to play Gryffindor in a week. He asked about my family—I loved growing up in such a warm environment but being the youngest of seven is hard. He asked about my friends, both here and back 'home'—I told him about Harry, the fearless leader of the Quidditch team, Hermione, the bookworm, and Luna, the loon but was careful not to mention anything that could seem suspicious.

I was very careful when asking him questions though and I could tell he sensed my hesitation.

"Ginerva, you don't have to tread lightly around me. I'm not going to get upset with you." I look him straight in the eye and study his face before coming to the conclusion that he really meant it. "I want you to be able to ask whatever you want to know about me."

My breath catches. "Not your plan though. I shouldn't ask about that."

There is silence as I wait for an answer; I can tell Tom was caught off guard by my statement. "Yes," he says eventually, "you're right. You probably shouldn't ask about that."

"Your family, then?" I try.

"I don't have any."

"Your hobbies?" Silence. And then…

"I like to read." Finally! I breathe a sigh of relief and he continues. "I love to read. I think I might have set a record for how many times someone has read _Hogwarts: a History_. It's rather pathetic how often I read that book actually." He finishes, a light blush rising in his cheeks. I flash him a smile. He reminds me of Hermione: so desperate to prove his worth, so happy to be a part of this world.

We continue talking like this for hours. It's long past when our patrol should end and we both know it, though neither of us wants to return to the common room and part ways for the night. Our feet lead us toward the stairs to the seventh floor and we stop. Going up there would mean obviously accepting that we are doing something other than was has been assigned and, quite frankly, since both of us know about the Room of Requirement, openly accepting that something more than just holding hands and talking is going to happen between us. We stand silently at the foot of the stairs. My heart is beating a lot faster and I'd bet money Tom can hear my breathing getting louder. It's not that I'm nervous, I'm just…. we haven't done anything but kiss and even though I'd love to do more, I'm worried about what any change might do to the stability of our relationship. Tom turns to look at me and it's one of those moments that Cassie's romance novels describe as "magic." Our eyes lock and we just stare at each other, silently communicating what we both already know. And before I know it, we're sprinting up the stairs, Tom is practically running three times in front of the Room of Requirement and then we're inside, kissing madly and holding tightly to each other as if at any moment the other will disappear into thin air.

* * *

"So Ginny, how are things with Tom?" Virginia asks the next night, smirking when I try to hide the instant blush. Does she know? She probably knows. But would Tom tell Abraxas? And if he did, would Abraxas tell Virginia? I try not to think about what happened last night on patrol duty but . . . oh sweet Merlin she knows!

"Things are fine." I reply, grimacing when it comes out sounding two or three octaves higher than when I normally speak. The girls in the dorm giggle and turn to look at me, sitting on Cassie's bed while she braids my hair.

"So even though you didn't return to your dorm anytime before when we all went to bed, after patrolling with Tom, and even though Tom didn't return until probably the same time, things are _just fine_?" Virginia teases. Some of the girls continue to giggle while some gasp. Cassie is one of the gaspers and, unfortunately, in gasping, she tugged my hair really hard.

"Ow Cass! And yes, things are fine." I say, probably more tersely than necessary.

"Wait…" Virginia says, sounding concerned now and coming to sit next to me on Cassie's bed. "Is everything still okay between you too? I mean, did something happen last night?"

I look up at her and sigh. "Last night was perfect, Nia. It's just weird. We held hands and talked all throughout the patrol and he was wonderful. We didn't fight; he never even raised his voice and subjects that usually are kind of touchy with him he just sort of brushed off like a joke. It was… it was…. nice."

As much as I was learning to really like these girls, I knew I couldn't explain what was really bothering me. If I told them that the real reason I was _just fine_ was that I was somewhat bored, they would probably think I was a slut. I know this is probably really awful of me but I can't help but compare my relationship with Tom to my relationship with Harry. Tom is wonderful and the perfect gentleman. Last night we did nothing but kiss feverishly—he never once tried to take my shirt off or cop a feel or anything. It lasted almost an hour but then that was it. We both left, winded and sexually tense but not willing to risk taking it further. He walked me to my dorm (by then it was almost 2am since we hadn't ended our patrol until midnight) said goodnight with a quick kiss and that was that.

With Harry there was a constant tension, a constant need to be together—to be touching. He would meet me by my classes as they let out and drag me into a secret passageway for a "hello snog" or sneak me into the boys showers after Quidditch practice for a tender but passionate . . . well, you get the idea. Maybe I should blame it on the war. Maybe Harry and I were always so desperate to be together because we subconsciously terrified of losing each other. Maybe . . .

Maybe I should stop being a bad girlfriend and appreciate the great relationship I have with Tom. Yeah.

"We're great, Nia. Tom and I are great. Honest." Virginia smiles and Cassie gives me an awkward hug from behind and quickly finishes braiding my hair.

I say goodnight to the girls and head downstairs to my room where I moved the assignments I'd been working on off my bed and got out my work-out clothes for tomorrow morning.

Earlier today Gryffindor had played Hufflepuff in Quidditch and won. The team had all gone to watch and learn their strategy (we'd be playing them next week and wanted to be ready) and, well, let's just say they've gotten much better. Abraxas of course is now stressed, Tristan is trying to help him out (but is pretty nervous too) and Terry is downright impossible to deal with (he didn't even come to dinner, instead going to the Room of Requirement to lift weights). Honestly though I'm not as worried as I thought I would be. I'll probably get more stressed as the game approaches but I know we're a good team. We practically crushed Ravenclaw and they have some really good players this year. If Gryffindor beats us then Gryffindor beats us but the scouts (yes, there are actually Quidditch scouts) already told us they'd be coming to a practice session instead of a game so quite frankly, I didn't think we needed to worry too much. Abraxas had announced that we'd be running laps before breakfast anyways though, so I figured I'd get my clothes out now to be ready.

_Knock Knock_

I glance up from setting out my jumper (if I was going to run at 5 in the morning I would not do it without something to keep me at least slightly warm) and go to open the door.

"Tom!" I gasp. Not only is he not wearing a shirt but he is wearing sweatpants that have settled quite low on his hips. All in a few seconds (though I definitely could have looked for a lot longer) I took in his surprisingly well-sculpted chest, his drool-worthy arm muscles, and the messy hair (the completely opposite of his usual perfectly gelled style) all before noticing that he was practically panting.

"I ran over here; I wanted to catch you before you went to sleep." He breathed.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, concerned. What did he need to see me for that couldn't wait until breakfast? Tom smiles.

"Everything is fine. I just realized I hadn't given you a proper goodnight." And with that he grabbed me around the waist, pulled me tight against him, and kissed me. Hard.

After a few minutes, he pulled away leaving me breathless. "Goodnight Ginerva." He said with a slight smirk. "I like your nightgown, by the way."

Confused, I looked down at what I was wearing. Of course I had to pick to wear the shirt I'd stolen from his room during the victory party (after we beat Ravenclaw and Tom and I had kissed for a while in his room) and nothing else. I looked back up, blushing, but he was already down the hall. Smiling, I went back into my room and got into bed.

There it was—the familiar knot in my stomach that meant I was falling hard. Looks like I didn't need to worry about comparing him to Harry after all. Both Harry and Tom were wonderful, but in different ways. Lucky for me, I was really starting to like Tom's way.

* * *

**A/N **– So? What did you think? Please, please, please review. Your comments keep me motivated and keep me on the right track for this story! So please, please, please questions, comments, concerns . . . all are welcome but please keep criticism constructive and not mean/nasty. Thank you for reading!

Love,

onceuponawonderland


	26. Chapter 26

FINALLY, here is chapter 26 of Diligo Victum Nex. I haven't updated in forever and for that I'm really sorry. This chapter is twice as long as my usual chapters, so I hope it kind of makes up for my lack of attention to this story. College is a crazy time, ya'll =P.

So once again, here's a standard disclaimer that the Harry Potter series belongs to an absolute genius named J.K. Rowling, and that all the stuff in this fanfic either comes from her brilliance or my crazy imagination. I hope you guys enjoy, and I'm going to try really hard to make a lot of headway with this story this summer!

By the way . . . . this chapter takes place at the very end of November/early December.

**Chapter 26**

"Never again, Abe. Never again." I pant and try my hardest to glare at the anxious Quidditch captain as we (the team) stumbled back into our common room. It wasn't just the fact that Abe made us start running at 5 in the morning, or even that he kept us running when a light snow started to fall and responded to our complaints of being cold by transfiguring our clothing into something more snow-friendly. It was that, after running in the cold for an hour, he made us run upstairs to the Room of Requirement and lift weights and do upper body conditioning.

"We have to be ready Ginny!" Abe responded vehemently. But even he burst into a fit of coughing and groaning from exertion. The room is spinning I am so tired, and my legs feel ready to give out completely, but I still try to get my point across.

"We have a week—couldn't the Room of Requirement stuff wait?" I look to my teammates, trying to get someone to agree with me, but it was pretty obvious that I wouldn't be getting any help; Tristan and Terry Zabini had passed out in a heap on the couch, Kendall was puking into a potted plant, Rod Yaxely had disappeared (probably to his dorm) and Tom Nott was curled up in an armchair, moaning.

Throwing a last, feeble glare in Abe's direction, I crawled off toward my dorm room. And by crawl, I mean, literally, crawl on my hands and knees.

Persistent knocking at my door wakes me up and I glance around for any indication of time, but see nothing. Natural light doesn't help much down here in the dungeons, and I can't see the clock on my nightstand from the floor . . . why am I on the floor?

"Ginny! If you don't give me some indication that you're alive I'm going to alohamora your door!" Cassie calls from the other side of the wooden surface. Oh Cassie . . .

"It's unlocked," I groan, trying and failing to pull myself onto my bed. My legs feel like lead; my arms feel like flobberworms. The door opens, Cassie shrieks something horrible, and a minute or two later I'm being lifted off the floor.

"Ginny! Ginny can you hear me?" Cassie shouts into my ear.

"Merlin's balls, Cassie! I'm not deaf—stop shouting." I groan angrily. Add ringing eardrums to my list of bodily pains.

"But—"

"It's Quidditch, Cassie." Tom's thankfully calm voice cuts her off, apparently ignoring my extremely un-ladylike language for the time being. "Abraxas worked them all much too hard this morning. The rest of the team has been passed out in their rooms all day as well."

I add a moan of affirmation, to appease Cassie, who retreats to my desk.

All is quiet for another few minutes and then Tom is by my head, coaxing one potion and then another down my throat and ignoring Cassie's mutterings of protest (Tom wasn't a certified healer and was therefore, in Cassie's eyes, unreliable). As I drifted into another merciful sleep I couldn't help but think that Tom had lately become the perfect boyfriend.

* * *

**Tom's POV**

I am a terrible boyfriend.

In the two weeks since Abraxas and Virginia Yaxely became a couple, he has sent her flowers or candies nearly every day. He has taken her flying. They've had private diners in the Room of Requirement. The other day he presented her with a locket containing a picture of the two of them, and she apparently has not taken it off since. He listens to her incessant gossip, for Merlin's sake!

I, on the other hand, haven't done anything for Ginerva. No flowers, no candy, no jewelry. The closest thing we've had to a date has been snogging in the Room of Requirement after patrolling duty. What's worse, I am beginning to think that this relationship is affecting my plan, and vice versa. That can't happen. No matter how much I want to make my relationship work, my plan has to come first. It's more important. Perhaps there was a time when Ginny could have been more important, but Abraxas and I put the plan in motion and it's too late now to go back.

On that note, I don't even know why I'm upset that I'm a bad boyfriend. It's not as though I'm courting her, for Merlin's sake! I never promised to be a perfect gentleman. I do truly like her though, and I do want her to feel similarly. Maybe I feel bad because Ginny has been a terrific girlfriend. It's nearly the end of term and she's been perfectly attentive. If I've been finding it difficult to fit her in, between prefect duties, my workload, and my plan, I can only imagine how she manages. Luckily our prefect duties often overlap, but I have a feeling she's been working extra hard on arithmancy, and Abraxas has been working the Quidditch team endlessly to prepare for the upcoming game against Gryffindor. This is the first morning she's been this exhausted—I actually considered taking her to the Hospital Wing before remembering I had brewed new potions the other day—but it's not the first morning like it. I had to brew new potions in the first place because she'd fallen asleep in class twice last week. Despite all of that, though, when I missed dinner the other day writing an essay for charms, she brought me food and offered to proof my work while I ate.

So, I suppose I could take her on a date. There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up shortly. We could attempt a real date. And, if I alter my robes myself from now on and remember to get used books from the professors for next years' classes, I should have enough money to buy a Christmas gift for her. I don't think I could afford real flowers for her, but perhaps I will conjure some fake ones, or convince Madam Rosse to give me a bouquet from the greenhouses. Yes. That's what I'll do. Just because my plan has to come first doesn't mean I can't be a good boyfriend. After all, fear isn't the only way for a leader to inspire loyalty. I feel a strange, unfamiliar jittering in the pit of my stomach. This better not affect my plan.

* * *

**Ginny's POV**

When I wake up again, it's past lunchtime and I thank my lucky stars that today is a Saturday. Last week had featured some grueling practices too, and my schoolwork had started to suffer. My potions essay, for example, needed some serious attention if I wanted to continue to get decent marks.

As I drag myself over to the pile of work on my desk, though, I can't help but smile. I'm surprised at how well things are going with Tom. Obviously it's only been a few weeks so far but compared to our last attempt at a relationship, things are amazing. He's been fairly caring and attentive ever since we got back together, and we almost always end prefect rounds in the Room of Requirement. Even better, he's actually helping me with arithmancy, and has taken to brewing me pepper up potions (since Healer Lupin cut me off two weeks ago). I have no idea really what changed, other than maybe something has changed with 'the plan'. Whatever it is, I'm not complaining.

_Knock. Knock. _

I call out to whoever is at my door to come in.

"Hey Ginny!" It's Virginia. Now there's another surprise: my friendship with the other 6th year girls. Lately I've been spending a lot of time with them, either in the dorm or in my room, and they've turned out to be pretty decent people. A bit too girly and gossipy for my taste, but decent people nevertheless.

"Hey Nia. What's up?" As I greet her, I sit down at my desk and motion for her to sit on my bed.

"I convinced Abe to cancel tonight's practice. Wednesday's too. It's running and on-the-pitch practices only from now until the game."

Did I just hear her correctly? Holy crap.

"Are you serious?" I practically shout, jumping up with excitement. She nods. Holy crap! Squeeling, I ambush her with a hug and probably a million "thank you-s". She laughs.

"It wasn't just for you! Do you know he practically slept through our date last night? We went down to the lake and had a picnic, but he could barely keep his eyes open. I had to ask him about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip three times before he heard me!" Virginia exclaims. Now it's my turn to laugh. Lately, Abe has been thinking about this trip almost as much as he's thought about Quidditch. Last week he let it slip that he was in love with Virginia, and has been anxiously awaiting a Hogsmeade weekend so that he could tell her while in the village. I had teased him for falling so quickly, but I really was happy for him and knew that despite his earlier reservation, he would make a great husband for Virginia.

"Well no matter your reasons, thanks for getting him off the crazy train." I say, smiling broadly. "Was there anything else?"

Virginia shakes her head.

"I don't mean to be rude," I add, sensing her disappointment, "I just desperately have to work on my potions essay, and I'm supposed to be meeting Tom to work on arithmancy in an hour, so . . ."

After nodding her head in understanding (and flashing me a really annoying, knowing smile), Virginia leaves me to my work and I try my best to start writing my essay.

An hour later, I still haven't made nearly enough progress and I'm running late for Tom. But of course, perfect boyfriend that he is lately, he doesn't care.

"Ginerva?" Tom is quietly sticking his head in through a crack in my door.

"Tom! I'm so sorry! I've been –"

"Working on the potions essay," Tom finishes, "Virginia Yaxely mentioned it. I brought some of the books I used on the essay, as I thought they might be of use to you. Would you like them?" I can't help it. The smile on my face is probably as big as China. I nod, standing up to pull him fully into the room and take the books from him.

"Thanks."

"We can skip the arithmancy if you'd like," Tom starts. I drop the books, and rise up on my tiptoes to kiss him, but he steps away. "Let's go on a date. This weekend."

I kiss him on the cheek, "Of course."

"I want to be a better boyfriend," he whispers, as if confessing something embarrassing. I snort.

"You're a great boyfriend, Tom." Now it's his turn to snort, apparently.

"Abraxas bought Virginia a diamond bracelet." Oh Merlin. I keep forgetting this is Tom's first relationship. I take Tom's hand and lead him over to my bed, where I force him to sit and look at me.

"Tom, listen to me. We've been on and off for a few months. Abe and Nia have been on and off for years. What's more, Abe and Nia are engaged. So stop measuring your actions against Abe's. You are a great boyfriend. This time. Okay?"

"They're engaged?" Well that's an expression I never thought I'd see on Tom's face…. Shock. Utter shock.

"Technically, they've been betrothed since birth, but Abe hasn't actually asked her to marry him yet," I explain, ignoring the fact that Tom hasn't accepted that he's a good boyfriend this time around. Instead, Tom crooks his head, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe me.

"Did Virginia tell you this?" he asks. I shake my head.

"Abe told me. On Halloween." It's like a light bulb lights up in Tom's mind. Of course he remembers Halloween, and he probably has a pretty good idea of what happened that night. "I should work on my essay," I add, before he can pull out any angry feelings left over from that night.

Tom gets up off the bed. "I'll leave you to it then. See you at dinner."

Once he's out of the room, I heave a sigh and go back to my desk. Maybe I'll ask Abe to talk to Tom. Payback for the week of practice-hell, I can say. But for now, I have a two more feet of parchment to fill up with what I'm hoping will verge on quality work.

A week later, I'm back on track with my schoolwork, Tom is acting relatively normal, and practice has been cancelled for the remainder of the semester ("but you better stay in shape," Abe warned). The big game against Gryffindor was last night and, of course, we won! It had been a close game, though. We were up by 30 points when both Nott (our keeper) and I were knocked off our brooms. After a quick fix from Healer Lupin we were back up, but we'd lost our lead. And since Abe refused to play dirty, we started to fall behind. We were down by 90 points when Abe finally caught the snitch. The Gryffindor team was fairly cordial about losing, and the Potter, who I'm assuming is Harry's granddad, actually complimented me on my flying, but we were all a little bitter about how close a game it had been. Luckily, there weren't any scouts watching. I keep telling myself it wouldn't have mattered, since I'm leaving after graduation anyways, but on the off chance that I can't get back to the 90's I'd like to keep my options open.

Anyways, today is the Hogsmeade trip, and Tom is determined to make this a better date than the last we went to Hogsmeade together. I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous myself, but I'm still looking forward to going. I need to stock up on candy, and everyone is really excited about a new mystery joke shop opening this weekend (it's Zonkos, but obviously I'm not supposed to know that yet). In addition to all that, Tom keeps hinting at some nice dinner together, and I have assurance from Abraxas that we will not be going to the newly opened _Madam Puddifoots_ (Tom Riddle in the cutesy tea shop is not something I particularly want to experience).

At 10 in the morning, I leave my room and go to meet Tom in the common room. When I see him I have to hold back a giggle. He does not look happy in an oversized coat (probably borrowed from Tristan), dragon hide gloves (most likely stolen from Abraxas), and a fuzzy hat (very poorly transfigured by Cassie the night before). I should have expected something like this; Tom didn't exactly have the money to own a huge wardrobe, but the look on his face is just too much.

"What, might I ask, is so funny, Ginerva?" Tom growls as I approach. This time I can't hold in the giggles.

"Why didn't you charm the coat to fit?" I ask, while opening the coat he's wearing and seeing that it hangs about a foot off of him. Tom may be very tall, but he isn't anywhere near as bulky as the Zabini brothers. He glares at me.

"I tried. I'm not used to working with clothing," he snaps harshly. The smile disappears from my face. Tom hated admitting he couldn't do something magical. I thought Tom just didn't want to offend anyone or had forgotten that he could change clothing with magic. If he hadn't succeeded magically, I had to tread carefully.

"I understand," I start, "my mum is a clothing genius, but it took me a really long time to get used to working magic on clothing."

"Are you familiar with—?" I nod.

"With six older brothers and not enough money to buy new clothes, I had no choice but to learn. I've been transfiguring my brothers' old clothing for a while now," I explain. Not that I have any of those self-made clothes with me here in the 1940s (I've been borrowing clothes from the girls), but that doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing. I wait for the subtle nod that will tell me it's okay to do something for him, and then I raise my wand. A few choice spells later and the borrowed coat fits, the gloves are loose enough to be comfortable, and the hat is not as ridiculous looking.

Blushing slightly, Tom takes my hand and we head into Hogsmeade.

Our first stop when we get to the village is Honeydukes. Tom thinks it's outrageous that I can even think about candy at 10:30am, but I want to get my candy while the crowds are still focused on Zonko's. Then it's on to the Three Broomsticks for lunch and butterbeer, and before I know it, we're standing outside a jewelry store.

"Go pick something," Tom whispers. Eyes wide, I point through the window, to the inside of the store.

"Pick something from this store? For what?" I ask, incredulous. I can't afford anything from this store!

"I want to get you a Christmas present. I know it's early, but the next Hogsmeade weekend isn't until Christmas day."

I'm shaking my head. "No. No, Tom, the stuff in there is way too much. I promise, a scarf, or some new quills are perfect presents. Please, Tom, don't waste your money on me." I know this store. Mom's engagement ring is from this store. For Tom to buy something from here . . . I couldn't let him do this.

"It's not a waste of money, it's a present for my girlfriend." Tom is insisting, and I see a hint of his ego cropping up to the point where it could be dangerous. I can just imagine his next words: He's Tom Riddle, and Tom Riddle deserves the best, which means his girlfriend deserves the best. If money-issues were embarrassing for my family, they're infuriating for Tom, who hates the fact that the heir of Slytherin is dirt poor.

"Tom, really, I'm not much of a jewelry person anyways," I try, pulling him toward a bookstore further down the road. "Really, there's a broom-servicing kit I've had my eye on forever that would make a much better present."

Tom looks unsure, and I notice him glancing back at the jewelry store, which Abe and Virginia have just happily walked into.

"We're not Abe and Virginia, remember?" Kissing Tom lightly, I try to bring back our discussion from last week. "I'm not going to want jewelry any time soon, I promise."

When Tom stops resisting my light tugs on his coat, I know I've won him over. From the look on his face, I know we'll probably have this conversation a few more times (at birthdays and, if we're still together, at Valentines' day), but I'm satisfied for now.

Around 5 o'clock in the evening, we decide to head back to the castle. Tom still hasn't clued me in on our romantic dinner plans, but since it was his idea to head back, I'm guessing we'll be in the Room of Requirement. It's gotten slightly warmer out and, seemingly in unison, our feet all turn toward the footpath back to Hogwarts instead of the carriages. The rest of our friends seem to have had similar ideas, and within minutes we're joined by most of the 6th year girls and all of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

The walk through Hogsmeade is beautiful, peaceful, even (if you don't count the jokes and happy chatter of my friends). Every now and then, Tom and I fall behind and kiss lightly before catching up with the rest of the group.

Laughing. Happiness. Warmth. That's what my time is missing. Even with Grindlewald gaining power and the upcoming examinations nagging at the back of our minds, my friends and I are laughing as we stroll along the snowy path, enjoying our youth and the memories we are making. Suddenly, I find myself wishing I could capture this moment and keep it forever. I look up at Tom, loving the feeling of my hand in his, mesmerized by his smile and intrigued by his adorable determination.

We're just about to reach the footpath when I see it. A wizarding camera, sitting in the window of a small little store to our left. I gasp. It's perfect.

"What's wrong?" somebody asks, but I've already taken off toward the store. A bell rings when I enter the store, and a salesperson is immediately by my side.

"Can I help you?" she asks sweetly.

"I'd like the camera, please," I point, panting slightly from running in the frosty air. I've been saving for Christmas presents, but that doesn't matter to me anymore. Cameras don't necessarily come cheap, even in the 1990s, but I knew as soon as I saw it that I had to have that camera, no matter what it cost.

The salesgirl comes back with a shiny new camera, packed in a box and everything, and we go to ring it up. It costs more than I wanted to spend on all the Christmas presents together, but I don't care. I will make Christmas presents by hand (and with a little magic, of course).

"A camera?" "Why'd you buy a camera?" "You can use a camera?" "How much did it cost?" Everyone asks some variation of these questions when I walk out of the shop. I do my best to answer them, explaining that I want to document our time together, that I'll check out a book from the library to learn to use it, and telling everyone it cost me 'an arm and a leg' to get them to stop asking about money. I don't tell them why I really want the camera: to document my time here so that when I go home, I won't be able to convince myself it was a dream, and so that I can take something tangible home with me. Luckily, they accept my simple answer and we move onto the footpath, reveling in (in my case) or ignoring (in everyone else's case) the absolute bliss of peacefully walking back from Hogsmeade with friends.

Our group splits up when we reach the castle. Abe and Virginia continue on toward the lake, probably wanting some uninterrupted private time together. A few members of the Quidditch team head off toward the pitch with some of my fellow 6th year girls, and Tristan and Cassie run off toward the library. Then Tom shocks me. Instead of taking me toward the Room of Requirement, he leads me toward the astronomy tower.

"Close your eyes," he instructs, when we reach the top landing. I feel his hand guide me through the doors, and I feel a slight breeze as the wind moves through my hair.

"What are we doing?" I ask, giggling slightly. This is so unlike anything I have ever done with a boyfriend, and I love how much I'm loving it.

"Open your eyes."

I open my eyes, and I swear I think my heart stopped. Tom is standing behind a small, round outdoor table set for two. There are candles and flowers, and a little house elf is pouring wine. Not knowing what to say, I say the only words I can form without a lump forming in my throat. "We're underage."

A strange look crosses Tom's face. "It's non-alcoholic," he assures me. "Is this alright? I thought it might be too much, but Abraxas said it would be fine . . ."

I shake my head yes. "It's perfect."

"Are you sure?" He asks, crossing over to me, and putting his hands on my shoulders. "You're crying." Am I? Oh.

I wipe the tears away, wrap my arms around my boyfriend and lean in for a kiss. "It's perfect."

Later, as I stare at my new camera and spread the first few pictures out on my bed, I find myself having to wipe away tears for a second time tonight. The knowledge that I'm actually going to leave someday hits me like a wall of bricks, and I'm surprised to realize just how fiercely I want to stay. I love it here. As much as I miss my friends and family from back home, I know I'll miss my new friends just as much. And, unlike saying goodbye to graduating friends or family that moves away, my new friends will never write me, or visit me, or ever see me again.

I sweep the pictures into a box for safe keeping, place the camera on my bedside table, and turn off the lights. And, for the first time in months, I cry myself to sleep.

* * *

OKAY! That's chapter 26. Please, please, please review. I know some of you probably think I don't read your reviews or that they won't make any difference, but I promise I do and they do! I love getting feedback and reading your reviews really does motivate me to write! So please, leave me some comments and stick with me. This story will get finished eventually; Even though I might take extended breaks from working on it sometimes, I will NOT abandon it. Ever. I promise.


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